


The Stray

by GentlyWithAChainsaw



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bestiality, Breeding, Butt Plugs, Castration, Dehumanization, Electric shocks, Enemas, Fisting, Forced Feminization, Kidnapping, Master/Pet, Mpreg, Multi, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sounding, Stockholm Syndrome, Training, Vets, Watersports, forced pet play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 14:32:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7511959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GentlyWithAChainsaw/pseuds/GentlyWithAChainsaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wakes up in increments. His head aches and he slowly realizes he’s cold. He whines and forces his eyes open, only to see bars surrounding him. He’s in a <em>cage</em>.<br/>When he tries to struggle to his knees he sees that his hands are encased in some sort of padding. Like boxing gloves, but made out of something softer than leather. He can feel the same thing on his feet and there’s a complicated sort of brace on his legs, keeping them from straightening. Other than that, he’s naked.<br/>And his mouth. There’s something covering his mouth and he can’t even pull it away with his hands like this. It feels like some sort of Hannibal Lector mask, straps everywhere— a <em>muzzle,</em> his panicked brain supplies. Another whine bursts out from behind it.<br/>“Shh,” a soothing voice says. “Easy, girl.”</p><p>OR, Stiles is kidnapped and becomes Derek's new pet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because a long time ago someone sent me a prompt asking for bestiality.
> 
> Please please PLEASE heed the tags. Stiles does not consent to any of the pet play or bestiality in this fic. It won't be everybody's cup of tea and the last thing I want to do is upset someone. 
> 
> I don't plan on making this very long but I'm happy to take more prompts for it out at gentlywithachainsawao3.tumblr.com or here in the comments.

Stiles Stilinski is having a terrible day. 

In the past twenty-four hours he’s been dumped, delivered a notice of eviction on his apartment door, and sent home from work early due to lack of customers despite the fact that he _really, really_ needs those hours. 

He has no idea what he’s supposed to do. None. His head has officially slipped below water and it’s just a matter of time before he drowns. 

He’s spiraling in fear and self-pity as he crosses the street, so lost in his own thoughts that he smacks right into a man going the other way. He goes flying backwards, stumbling just in time to keep himself from falling on his ass. 

It’s undoubtedly his own fault but all his frustration spills over and he glares, hands clenching into fists. “Watch where you’re going, asshole!” 

The man looks startled before raising an eyebrow sternly. “I believe you ran into me.” 

Stiles scowls. He’s a good-looking fucker, someone who probably isn’t used to getting yelled at in the street. In the moment, he’s everything Stiles hates. “If you’d been paying attention, I wouldn’t have.” 

Rather than fight back the man stares at him for another second before his lips twist up. _Mocking him_. “You’re a growly one, aren’t you? I thinks someone needs to go to time-out.” 

Stiles’ temper hits the breaking point. He really wants to hit something right now and this dick’s face will do. “You want to go settle this like men, shithead?” 

The man just keeps smiling. “If I saw another man here, I would.” 

_Asshole_. Stiles thinks about taking a swing at him, but as soon as his fury had come, it’s gone. He’s not really angry with the guy. He’s just really, really tired of his really, really shitty life. His shoulders slump. “Whatever,” he mumbles, face turning red as he turns to walks away. 

He works out the rent situation, selling a large piece of his dignity in the process. When he goes to bed he keeps replaying the moment in the street, that little smile on the stranger’s face and the mocking lilt of his voice. 

Much to his embarrassment he sees the same man on his way to work the very next day, and then two days later. Once the man catches him looking and smiles a little, clearly having not forgotten about Stiles’ little temper tantrum on the street. 

The next day, though, the stranger is the least of his problem, because he’s fired from his job. 

_Fired_. 

His boss is firm and unapologetic— business just isn’t good enough to justify having so many employees, and Stiles is the most recent hire, so he’s out. Stiles would like to think of himself as too proud to beg, but it turns out he’s not even proud enough to stop himself from crying. When the tears come his boss looks horrified, and Stiles can only turns and run out the door. 

Oh, God. He’s fucked, he’s so fucked. He needed this job. He’s going to get kicked out of his apartment. He’s going to fucking _starve_. 

He finds an alley and hides next to a dumpster, crying until his throat hurts. 

So this is what rock bottom feels like. 

“Hey, there. Are you okay?” 

He looks up to see the man from the street standing over him, looking concerned. Un-fucking-believable. “Did someone hurt you?” 

Stiles shakes his head and wipes his face quickly. “No. I’m fine. Seriously. Just taking a little breather here, so you can continue on your merry way.” His voice breaks on a sob and the man sighs, sinking down into a crouch. 

“You’re _not_ okay. Seriously, are you hurt?” 

“No. I promise. Just having a bad day. A _lot_ of bad days.” Stiles sighs and sticks out his hand, trying to maintain some dignity. “I’m Stiles.” 

“Derek.” The guy shakes. “Thank you for not calling me an asshole today.” 

Yep, the guy definitely remembers. Stiles blushes a deep red. “Like I said. Lots of bad days.” 

“I’m just glad your bark was worse than your bite. I don’t do street fights. Anything I can do to help?” 

“No, dude. Thanks. I just…I got fired.” Stiles feels tears threatening and he takes a breath. “Seriously, I’m fine. You don’t have to stay.” 

“I’m not leaving you. When I hear people crying in alleys I like to make sure they get home all right. Unless…” the guy looks around and drops his voce covertly. “ _This_ isn’t your home, is it?” 

Stiles can’t tell if he’s kidding or not. “This is nicer than my home, honestly.” 

“Do you have a roommate? Family? Someone to help?” 

“Nope. Good thing I’m tough, right?” He tries to smile bravely to show Derek how _totally fine_ he is and Derek smiles back slightly. 

“Maybe you need to recuperate somewhere a little better. I can take you to my house, if you’d like to go there.” 

Holy shit. Is this guy hitting on him? It’s so out-of-nowhere, so _impossible_ , that Stiles wants to burst out laughing, but then he considers. Obviously Derek wants sex. Maybe he’s got a thing for damaged people. Stiles could use this. 

“A hundred bucks,” he says, staring directly at the guy and hoping his voice doesn’t quaver. “That gets you an hour and anything you want.” 

The guy’s jaw drops. “Are you a _prostitute?”_

_As of thirty seconds ago, yes_. “Take it or leave it.” 

Derek’s brow furrows, and for a second he looks a little pissed off, but he nods. “I’ll take it,” he says. Stiles thinks his voice is a little tighter. “Come on. My car is right over here.” 

Stiles lets Derek pull him to his feet and follows him out of the alley. He’s about to get paid for sex. So _this_ is what rock bottom feels like. A voice in his head is screaming at him, telling him that this is the stupidest, most dangerous thing he’s ever done, but Derek had been kind to him. He’d heard crying and came running. That makes him the safest choice for this, and Stiles is out of other options. 

“Here’s my car,” Derek says. It’s parked right at the mouth of the alley. Stiles starts to get into the passenger seat, but Derek makes a warning sound, stopping him. “No, no. You sit in the back.” 

Stiles bristles, but what he can do? It’s Derek’s car. “Whatever.” 

Derek opens the back door and Stiles crawls inside. There’s a blanket on the seat covered in dog hair, making him wrinkle his nose. Just then something occurs to him. “Wait, were you _driving_ past when you heard me? How did you do that?” 

Derek gently nudges him into the car, shuts the door, and walks to the driver’s side without answering. Stiles starts to get a bad feeling, but he shakes it away. A hundred bucks. He needs that money. 

“You have a dog?” he asks to fill the awkward silence as Derek starts the car. It’s weird riding in the backseat. 

“Yes. His name is Rocky. You’ll meet him soon.” Derek turns onto the freeway leading north, making Stiles frown. He’d figured Derek lived nearby— but he had said _house_ , not _apartment_. He must not live in the city. 

“How far away is your house?” 

“It’s pretty far out of the city. My pups need lots of room to run around.” 

Stiles barely hears the second sentence; he’s too busy worrying about the first one. He hadn’t expected to be travelling far. Maybe he should have charged more than a hundred. His stomach lets out a painfully loud growl and Derek snorts out a quiet laugh. “Hungry?” 

“Sorry.” 

“No worries. I think I have some treats up here…” Derek pops out the center console and makes a noise of triumph. “Here you go. Peanut butter.” 

“Oh, sweet. Thanks.” Stiles grabs a chocolate-coated candy from the bag. It’s got sort of a funny taste— good, but unexpected. “Is this chocolate?” 

“Of course not.” Derek sounds scandalized by the thought. “It’s carob. It’s good for you.” 

This guy is weirder than he’d thought. Whatever. It’s just about money. That’s all this is. “Oh. Sorry. You want one?” 

“No.” Derek glances at him in the rearview mirror. “Water?” 

The peanut butter has made his mouth dry. “Thanks.” 

Derek tosses him a bottle from the front seat. There’s no label and as Stiles twists off the cap he notes with a frown that the seal’s been broken. But so what? He’s already having sex with Derek. What reason would Derek have to drug him? 

He sips the water for a while, watching the city disappear and be replaced with green. The sun beats down on him through the window— it’s always diluted by a blanket of smog when he’s in the city— and when he starts to feel drowsy he chalks it down to that. 

“You’re not married, right?” he yawns at one point. 

“No. I don’t need anything but my pets.” 

Stiles’ brow furrows. That’s a weird fucking thing to say, right? But the tired part of his brain tells him not to worry about it. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the sun-warmed window. 

Time gets a little floaty and he’s not sure how long it is before the car is slowing to a stop. Stiles cracks his eyes open with effort and sees they’re parked at a decent-sized house, with nothing but trees around them. Derek gets out of the car and comes to open Stiles’ door. “Here we go,” he says in a brisk, efficient voice different from how he’d been talking in the car. “Out.” 

Stiles stumbles out and Derek grips his arm tightly. Now that he’s on his feet he realizes that this lethargy isn’t right. It isn’t normal. “What’s going on?” he wines, trying to shake Derek off. “Why’m I tired?” 

“Shh.” Derek’s hand pets over his head in a rhythmic, oddly soothing way. “We’re home now.” 

He half-drags Stiles into the house. As soon as they’re through the door Stiles hears barking. “Rocky!” Derek calls, kicking the door shut behind them. “Here, boy!” 

A massive black shape rushes them. Stiles’ eyes have gone blurry, so he can barely see. The dog leaps up at him, paws scrambling against his chest. “That’s right, boy,” Derek says, voice soft. “Look what I have for you.” 

What the hell is happening? Is Derek going to chop him up and feed him to the dog, or what? Stiles groans as Derek lowers him down to the floor. “All right, boy,” Derek says. “Give her a sniff. Let’s see if you like her.” 

Stiles can feel the dog’s hot breath on his cheek. It’s like it’s _inspecting_ him, burying its nose in the crook of his neck and pawing impatiently at the waist of his jeans. Derek chuckles and Stiles can feel him pulling down his pants and underwear, exposing his ass completely. The dog lets out an excited bark and Stiles can feel him nosing _there_ , too. Without warning he feels the dog’s tongue push into his crack, eagerly laving at the tender skin— 

“Okay,” Derek says, apparently pulling the dog away by the collar. “No more right now, pup. She’ll be all yours soon, I promise.” Stiles stares upwards to see Derek smiling down at him, pride and excitement all over his face. “Once she’s trained you can breed her all you want,” Stiles thinks he says, but at that point darkness is so close that Stiles just lets it take him under completely. 

X 

Stiles wakes up in increments. His head aches and he slowly realizes he’s cold. He whines and forces his eyes open, only to see bars surrounding him. He’s in a _cage_. 

When he tries to struggle to his knees he sees that his hands are encased in some sort of padding. Like boxing gloves, but made out of something softer than leather. He can feel the same thing on his feet and there’s a complicated sort of brace on his legs, keeping them from straightening. Other than that, he’s naked. 

And his mouth. There’s something covering his mouth and he can’t even pull it away with his hands like this. It feels like some sort of Hannibal Lector mask, straps everywhere— a _muzzle_ , his panicked brain supplies. Another whine bursts out from behind it. 

“Shh,” a soothing voice says. “Easy, girl.” 

Derek is sitting by the cage. It looks like they’re in a garage or something; there’s not much light and everything is concrete. As Stiles stares at him he smiles reassuringly and reaches through the bars of the cage to caress Stiles’ hair. “Everything’s all right.” 

It hurts to look at him and remember how incredibly stupid Stiles had been to get himself in this position, so Stiles looks away, searching to see anything that might calm him. He looks down at himself and sees to his horror that his penis and balls are currently wrapped up, intricately held apart with what looks like black ribbon. How long has he been unconscious? What else has Derek done to him? 

“Easy,” Derek says again as Stiles’ heartrate elevates. “I know you’re confused. I need you to stay calm while I explain things to you. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?” 

Stiles chokes around a sob. Derek waits to make sure he’s listening before speaking again. “The first thing you should know is that I’m a werewolf.” 

Oh. So he’s not just run-of-the-mill kidnapper crazy. He’s _delusional_ kidnapper crazy. Stiles tries to slide into the corner of the cage but his body feels too lethargic. Derek chuckles at the look on his face. “Watch,” he says gently, and Stiles watches as his face bristles and turns monstrous. His heart almost explodes in his chest as he lies there helplessly. 

“See?” Derek says, his face returning to normal after a moment’s effort. “I thought we should just get that demonstration out of the way. You need to understand. There are lots of us out there, and they’re all you’ll find for miles here. We tend to band together. A few years ago some of our scientists were trying to better understand our genes and spliced them with that of canines— I believe a Siberian husky was the first— to see if more werewolves could be created from animals. The result—” 

He’s interrupted by a frantic scratching at the door. Derek breaks off. “Sorry. He’s overexcited. I’ll let him in before he scratches a hole through it.” He opens the door and catches the collar of the largest dog Stiles has ever seen. It’s black and shaggy, looking closer to a wolf than any dog breed Stiles knows. As he watches it strains against Derek’s hand, letting out impatient barks with its eyes fixed on Stiles. 

Derek leads it over to the cage and it sticks its nose through. “There you go,” Derek says over its exited yips. “She’s right here. Now sit, Rocky.” The dog whines but does so and Derek pulls out of his pocket one of those peanut-butter balls Stiles had been eating in the car. The dog snaps it up eagerly. 

“Good boy. As I was saying, the result was _this_. Dogs with superior size and intelligence. They make excellent pets for werewolves— regular dogs are afraid of us, but animals like Rocky here act like one of the pack.” He strokes the dog fondly. “Unfortunately, they also have… certain appetites which are very hard to fulfill.” 

Holy shit. Derek _is_ going to feed him to the dog. 

“I’ve had Rocky since he was a puppy. I should have had him neutered then, that’s what most people do, but I didn’t have the heart. And even if I had, these animals crave a certain companionship their owners just can’t give. A need to dominate; a need for someone else to be the omega of their little pack. It’s been a real problem. They’re too large to mate with other dogs, you see, and they’re potent enough that vets believe they might actually be able to impregnate human females. No one wants to see the result of _that_ union.” Derek smiles at Stiles again as if he’s telling him something wonderful. “That’s where you come in.” 

Stiles, feeling panic rise like a tidal wave in his chest, tries again to skitter away. This time he actually manages to flip over, landing on his back. The movement sets off the dog and it bursts free from Derek’s restraining hand, pawing frantically at the cage so the whole thing rocks. 

“Rocky, _no!_ ” Derek shouts, and the dog stops immediately. Derek grabs him by the collar and drags him back to the door, scolding him as they go: “That’s _not_ how good studs behave, boy. I know you’re excited, but she needs to be treated gently. Now you’ll have to stay away from her until you get control of yourself.” He opens the door and gently pushes the dog through. “Go. Sit.” He closes the door and returns to Stiles, ignoring the heartbroken whining on the other side. “I’m sorry about that. You’ll both need some training in the next few weeks.” 

Stiles has a terrible urge to laugh. This isn’t real, right? This is a joke. Rocky keeps scratching desperately at the door, whining, making Derek roll his eyes fondly. “I knew he’d like you. He’s the most loving puppy you can imagine.” 

Some dim part of Stiles’ brain mocks him: of course someone as hot as Derek wouldn’t want to fuck him. He’s only good enough for Derek’s _dog_. The half-hysterical thought seems to wake him up a little, pushing him into reality. This _is_ really happening. Stiles has to get out of here. 

Stiles tries to plead with Derek but all that comes out is a broken whine, almost identical to the sounds coming from Rocky. “It’s all right!” Derek croons, reaching through the bars to pet him again. “You’re here for Rocky to breed, but that doesn’t make you any less my pet than he is. You’ll have a good life here with your stud and your owner. Long walks, naps by the fire, toys…and who knows? With the science moving as quickly as it is, maybe there _will_ be pups one day.” 

He stands and turns to bustle in a cabinet high above them. “Of course, this is going to be a change for you,” he says. His voice is so kind it just makes everything worse. “Your old life is over now, not that it seemed like much to brag about before.” 

Stiles bristles. How dare Derek imply that he _deserves_ this? Nobody deserves this. He hears himself make a frustrated little growl, muffled by the muzzle. “No, girl,” Derek says warningly. “I won’t have any displays of aggression from you. You try baring your teeth at Rocky and he’ll have you pinned in a flash. There’s one big change for you— you have to learn to act like a good girl.” He comes to sit again, a heavy-looking circlet in his hand. “That means obeying Master’s orders, being loyal to your stud, and putting aside all thoughts of acting like a human again. I know it might take a while, but I’m going to train you. We’ll get started right now.” He unlatches the cage. 

Stiles wants to move, run out of there as fast as he can and burst out the door screaming, but whatever Derek had used to drug him is still in his system. Derek has to coax him out, pulling carefully at his arms and shoulders until he slides awkwardly on his padded hands. “Good girl!” Derek says once he’s out of the cage. 

The effort to move has exhausted him and he curls up on the floor, shaking slightly with the cold. “Up you go, pup,” Derek says gently, tugging him until he’s on all fours. The brace keeping his legs bent has padding at the knees, so at least the concrete ground doesn’t hurt, but it’s unnerving being stuck like this while Derek is standing. 

“Pets don’t stand on two legs,” Derek chides, seeing him trying to push himself to his feet. “This is the proper posture. Hold still for me, pretty girl.” He bends and holds up the circlet, which Stiles realizes is a collar. Stiles tries to jerk his head away but Derek holds it firmly, locking the collar into place. “There we go. That’s my girl.” 

Stiles tries to brace one padded hand against the other to pull it free, but Derek just reaches down and pulls his hands apart. “No,” he says, clearly and firmly. 

Stiles growls in frustration and tries to struggle up again. “ _No_ ,” Derek says, even more firmly this time, and a sudden spasm passes through Stiles’ body. It doesn’t hurt, really, it’s just— shocking. Literally. Derek just _shocked_ him. Stiles can see a little remote in his hand and he realizes the zap had come from the collar. 

Derek sees the stunned look in his eyes and croons reassuringly. “Oh, I know, girl. The training collar isn’t very fun. It’s just for a little while, we’ll get you something much prettier soon.” He strokes Stiles’ hair soothingly for several seconds, waiting for him to be calm. “You don’t want that to happen again, do you? We’ll start very simple. Sit.” Derek nudges him into position, so he’s sitting back on his haunches with his arms braced in front of him. Derek waits a moment to see if he’ll hold the position on his own, then smiles proudly at him. “Good puppy. See? Now you’ll get a reward.” 

He grabs a dog bowl from the same shelf he’d taken the collar from and puts it on the ground before filling it with water from a bottle. “Here, sweet girl,” he murmurs, reaching around to undo some sort of clasp at the back of the muzzle. Stiles sucks in huge lungfuls of air when it’s removed. “Stop,” he croaks. “Let me…” 

The zap is stronger this time, making him yelp a little. “ _No_ ,” Derek says sternly. “Bad girl. I don’t want to ever hear those noises again. Now, have a drink and we’ll get started.” 

He wants to scream at Derek, but his body is still shaking a little and he’s afraid that more shocks will give him permanent damage or something. He turns his attention to the water bowl. His mouth feels desert-dry, but he can’t bear the thought of lapping from the bowl like a dog. Besides, it’s probably drugged just like the last bottle of water was. 

“It won’t make you sleepy,” Derek says, reading his thoughts. “Go on.” He waits, and when Stiles doesn’t move his voice gets a little sterner. “ _Drink._ ” 

Now it’s an order. If Stiles disobeys, he’ll probably get shocked again. He reluctantly bends his head to the bowl and drinks. It’s uncomfortable, water slopping over the side and soaking his nose and cheeks, but he’s so thirsty that he ignores it. He freezes, though, when Derek casually reaches over to start stroking his hair. A pitiful whimper chokes out and he has to bite back a plea. 

“Shh,” Derek murmurs. “You need to get used to Master’s touches.” He pets Stiles’ hair for a while, then moves down to stroke over his shoulders and back. Stiles can’t drink with Derek touching him like this and he turns his head away. “Done?” Derek asks, standing to pick up the bowl. 

Stiles sees him reaching down to pick up the muzzle again and he panics, trying desperately to straighten his legs out, break the stupid brace and get to his feet, but he’s still too weak. “No!” he shouts as Derek approaches him with the muzzle. “Help me! Somebody _help—!_ ” 

He’s cut off by the collar and while he’s reacting to the shocks Derek wrestles the muzzle back over his face. “No more training for a while, if you’re not going to behave. Back in the crate.” 

He fights as best he can but Derek shoves him into the cage and locks it easily. He walks away without a backwards glance and shuts off the overhead light before walking through the door, leaving Stiles alone and in the dark. 

X 

It’s hours before Derek returns. Stiles can hear him sometimes playing with Rocky, or pulling Rocky away from the door— “ _She’s not ready for you yet, boy— ”_ but even when Stiles lets out loud whines through his muzzle he doesn’t come back. 

He’s hungry now, and he has to pee, but more than anything he’s just scared. He keeps replaying Derek’s transformation. He hadn’t imagined or hallucinated it. Derek really _is_ a _werewolf_. That means he could hurt Stiles in a second if he wanted to…and god only knows what that dog might do to him… 

When Derek comes back Stiles doesn’t try to scream or hide. He needs to be out of the cage, so he waits obediently for Derek to open the door and help him out. “Good girl,” Derek says, sounding pleased. “Let’s have you do your business and then we’ll start your training again, all right?” 

_Do your business?_ Stiles doesn’t understand what that means until Derek pulls him by the collar to a few newspapers on the floor. “Go on, pup.” 

He’s expected to piss on the newspaper. He gives Derek a look of mingled fury and horror and Derek just looks back at him steadily, a hint of a threat in his eyes. “You can still go with the bindings. Lift your leg if that’s easier. 

This is the best he’s going to get for a bathroom. He closes his eyes as if that will shut off the humiliation and releases his bladder. Much to his embarrassment he does have to cock one leg to the side so he doesn’t piss all over himself. Derek praises him effusively, even giving him a little kiss on his head. “That was very good, pup,” he murmurs. “Let’s continue. I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you?” 

He gets out another bowl and fills this one with little pellets. “This isn’t the same mix Rocky eats,” he says, maybe hearing Stiles’ little _whiff_ of disgust. “It’s specially designed for pups like you.” 

Something about the way he says that strikes fear deep into Stiles’ core. _Pups like you_ ; like he’s already changed Stiles and it’s a done deal that Stiles is his _pet_ now. He doesn’t fight or try to speak when Derek removes the muzzle— he can’t bear another shock. Derek is clearly pleased with him and fills up the water bowl for him too. 

“Eat up, puppy. It’s all yours.” 

Stiles stares at him pleadingly for a minute. Derek waits him out, eventually raising one eyebrow sternly and reaching down to take the remote for the collar out of his pocket. With a whimper Stiles shuffles forward, lowers his head, and using his teeth to pull a single pellet out of the bowl. It’s crunchy and sort of bland— like a tasteless pretzel nugget or something. He tells himself that’s all it is and eats a few more, going as slowly as possible. When he’s eaten as much as he can stand he drinks deeply from the bowl, then bows his head to tell Derek he’s done. 

“Excellent! You’re doing so well!” Derek replaces the muzzle, petting him in a way he must think Stiles finds reassuring. “We’re going to do a little obedience training now.” 

He walks into the far corner of the room, then bends slightly and pats his knees. “Here, girl.” 

Stiles, feeling a little stronger now that he’s been fed, doesn’t move. 

“Come here, girl.” Derek keeps patting his knees, calling in a loud voice as if Stiles just doesn’t understand him. When Stiles stubbornly sits back on his haunches, refusing to move, Derek sighs again and zaps him. He’d figured it was coming but the anticipation only makes it worse. He hears himself whine through the muzzle. 

“ _Here_ , girl,” Derek’s voice is firm, with the promise of more shocks to come if Stiles doesn’t obey. He whimpers in distress and moves forward. It’s hard to lift his hands with the padding, but he manages, scooting across the room until he’s at Derek’s feet. 

Derek heaps praise on him, dropping the ground so he can rub Stiles’ stomach and ruffle his hair. “Good girl,” he croons, scratching at Stiles’ scalp. “You are such a good girl, you’re the _best_ girl.” 

Stiles feels tears of humiliation and fear sliding down his face. Derek wipes them away and then sits cross-legged with Stiles’ head in his lap, petting Stiles’ hair until he’s finally stopped crying. 

When he speaks again his voice is extra-gentle. “All right, pup. No more training tonight. There’s just one more thing we have to do before you go back in your cage for the night, all right?” He rummages in the cabinet directly behind them, one hand still petting him. Stiles squints warily and sees a bottle of something and a small bullet-shaped item with a handle attached. 

“There won’t be any breeding for a while, but you have to be made ready for your stud. You’ll need to be stretched until you can handle his knot.” Derek squirts gel from the bottle over the object and Stiles realizes that it’s a butt plug and lube. His heart races and he tries to squirm away but Derek hushes him, pinning him down one with arm. 

“Easy, girl. Easy.” He parts Stile’ cheeks and presses his finger against Stiles’ hole as if checking its elasticity. Much to Stiles’ horror he then takes his hand away, slides on a latex glove, and pushes one finger inside Stiles’ hole. “Shh. Just making sure you can take it.” Another finger joins the first. Stiles screams so loudly behind the muzzle that he hears Rocky barking and clawing at the door. 

When Derek is satisfied he replaces his fingers with the base of plug and carefully pushes it in, tsking at Stiles’ attempts to push it back out. When it’s all the way in he pats Stiles’ ass with satisfaction. “All done, sweet girl. You did very well.” 

He puts Stiles back inside the cage, stroking him through the bars until he finally just drops his head in exhaustion against his folded arms. “You’ll wear that through the night. Get some rest. Tomorrow we’ll go to the vet.” He leaves the room, shutting off the lights again. Stiles lies shivering in his cage until his own frantic heartbeat and Rocky’s excited yips on the other side of the door finally drive him into an exhausted sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific warnings for this chapter--non-con body mod, lots of dehumanization and forced feminization, super-mild scat, and threat of watersports and castration (not carried out). 
> 
> Prompts open at gentlywithachainsaw.tumblr.com

The drugs must be lingering in Stiles’ system longer than he’d realized, or the water from the bowl had been laced with something, because he somehow manages to sleep through the entire night and only wakes up when Derek walks into the garage the next morning. It takes him a minute to remember why he’s terrified and sore, but the sight of Derek’s face reminds him. He whimpers and tries to stretch out his cramped limbs. 

“Shh, girl,” Derek soothes, dropping down to unlock the cage. He tugs Stiles out by the collar and begins to massage his aching joints. “You’re all right.” 

Stiles tries weakly to fight him off, then gives up and just lies there accepting the ministrations. The massage feels undeniably good after all those hours in the small cage. He’s hoping Derek will take the padding off his hands and feet and massage those too, but no such luck. 

“There you go,” Derek says after several minutes. “Now, let’s get you fed and watered, sweetheart.” 

The two bowls are once again filled with pellets and water. Derek removes the muzzle, gently stroking the underside of Stiles’ jaw as it comes off. Stiles groans in relief when he’s free. “Derek,” he croaks, hoping using the man’s name will snap him out of this insanity. “Please let me go. I won’t tell anyone about this.” 

He’s expecting to get shocked, but instead Derek just smiles kindly at him and ruffles his hair. “What did I say about those noises? The sooner you learn, the sooner I can put the muzzle away.” 

“I don’t know what you want from me. I’m not a girl, I’m not a _dog_ —” 

“Shh. I know what you are, puppy. Eat your breakfast.” 

Frustration chokes him and he considers upturning the bowls out of spite, but his stomach is growling again and his mouth feels so, so dry. Reluctantly he crunches the pellets, wondering how long Derek thinks he can survive something on just this, and drinks messily from the bowl. Derek praises him as he replaces the muzzle. 

“Now, my girl has been so good I think it’s time to go outside, what do you think?” 

_Outside?_ That’s the best news Stiles has ever heard. He can run, he can get a better sense of his surroundings, he can shout for help…he nods enthusiastically, not even shying away from the pat on the head he gets in return. 

Derek gets something out of the upper cabinet and clips it to the collar. A leash. He tugs it and Stiles reluctantly follows, crawling with him to the door. There are a few steps up that Derek patiently waits for him to navigate before opening the door. Stiles hears panting and looks up to see Rocky, sitting still with his eyes fixed on Stiles. 

“Now, now,” Derek says when Stiles tries to scoot backwards. “Rocky and I did some training of our own last night. He knows to be gentle, don’t you boy?” 

Rocky’s tongue lolls out of his mouth happily and he barks. Derek clips a second leash to the collar around Rocky’s neck and leads them both through the house and out the front door. 

Stiles looks around frantically as soon as they’re outside. Trees. Trees everywhere. They must be deep in the woods or something. His heart sinks a little, but he focuses on the little road that Derek had driven in on. If he follows that then he can get to a highway. 

His plans are interrupted when Derek takes the plug in his ass by the handle and starts to work it free. Rocky, excited, tries to stick his nose in there, but Derek scolds him away. “All right, girl,” Derek says once it’s out. “Do your business.” 

Stiles stares at him. Next to him Rocky is doing his own “business,” which Derek quickly scoops up in a baggie when he’s done. “Go on,” he repeats. “Be a good girl. I know you have to after all that puppy food.” 

As soon as he says it Stiles realizes that the cramping in his stomach isn’t just from fear. Oh, God. He _can’t_. Pissing on the newspaper was one thing, but _this_ … 

Derek just waits, looping the end of the leash around his wrist casually. Stiles swallows hard and spreads his legs as best he can. He’s never felt so disgusted and humiliated in his life, and Derek’s effusive praise only makes it worse. Derek cleans up the mess just like Rocky’s and even wipes Stiles clean with a wet wipe he’d pulled from his pocket. As soon as he’s finished Rocky starts sniffing his ass, panting excitedly. Stiles waits for Derek to pull the dog away again but this time Derek just lets it happen, holding the leash taut so Stiles can’t jerk away. 

Rocky sniffs him all over. His nose butts against Stiles’ dick with interest, but he _whuffs_ in disgust when he realizes what it is and backs away. Derek snorts. “I know, buddy. I’m sorry. I’ll make her perfect for you soon.” 

What is _that_ supposed to mean? Stiles looks desperately up the road again as if police cars might be speeding towards him even now. Derek jerks the leash and leads him back inside the house. Stiles tries to let out a howl, anything that can be heard over the muzzle, but there’s nothing but some birdsong in reply. 

And then, much to his horror, it’s time for more _training_. He’s taken back to the garage and this time Rocky comes too, taking up residence in the corner, where he sits and watches Stiles be put through his paces. After replacing the butt plug Derek practices _come_ again, then “teaches” him _sit_ and _stay._ Stiles resists at _roll over_ but Derek just uses the training collar to get him to obey. 

Eventually it’s like Stiles’ whole world narrows until all he knows is Derek’s commanding voice, gentle touches, and calls of: “Good girl! Such a good girl!” 

It’s almost a relief. It’s like he forgets what’s happening. He just has to do what he’s told so he won’t be shocked. If he doesn’t look at Derek or Rocky he can pretend it’s all just a game. 

When Derek is finally satisfied he lays Stiles’ head in his lap again and strokes his hair. Rocky pads over and licks Stiles’ cheek. “No-o,” Derek chides softly when Stiles tries to turn his head away. “A good bitch never says no to her stud.” He holds Stiles’ head in place as the dog licks over his cheeks. When he tries to lick inside the muzzle Derek removes it, keeping a firm enough grip on Stiles’ jaw that he can’t even scream as Rocky laps over his lips, whining as though he’s disappointed Stiles won’t open his mouth. 

Finally, blessedly, the dog has enough and walks away. Derek pushes Stiles’ head off his lap. “Sit,” he commands, and Stiles does so without a second thought, trying to spit out the taste of the dog. “Good girl!” 

Derek gets out another water bottle and fills up the bowl. Stiles drinks with desperation, trying to ignore the soft sound of Derek talking to the dog in that idiotic crooning voice. “Oh, I _know_ , boy, I _know_ , she’s doing so well. She’ll be all ready for you soon, won’t she? Yes, yes she _will_. Such a pretty bitch for you, and you’re going to treat her so well, aren’t you?” 

Rocky yips with delight. 

He expects to be put back into the cage, but instead Derek starts petting him again. Stiles thinks about struggling, but almost immediately he feels the same drowsiness he remembers from the car yesterday. “It’s okay, girl,” Derek croons when he whimpers. “We have to go to the vet now and I needed to make sure you weren’t going to get too excited. You’re just fine.” 

He doesn’t feel fine. He tries to talk when Derek starts to put the muzzle back over his mouth; he even tries to bite at Derek’s fingers, but he’s so weak that Derek just hushes him gently and fits the muzzle into place. He lifts Stiles from the ground, one firm hand patting his back. “Sweet girl,” he murmurs. “Don’t you know how lucky you are?” He adjusts Stiles’ collar and kisses his forehead. “We’re going to take such good care of you.” 

X 

Stiles is loaded into the backseat of the car again. Rocky jumps in too and Derek carefully places Stiles’ head between Rocky’s legs, so the dog’s panting is all he can hear. He stares at the thin sliver of sky he can see through the window as they drive and fantasizes about Derek getting pulled over the police, but nothing happens. 

When the car finally pulls to a stop Stiles gathers all his strength, preparing to jump from the car and crawl away as fast as he can to summon help. Derek must be anticipating such a response because he only opens the door partially, wedging his body so Stiles can’t get past him. He clips the leash back onto Stiles’ collar and carefully tugs him out of the car to the ground. 

Much to Stiles’ relief there are four or five other cars in the parking lot. He doesn’t resist as Derek gives the leash a tug, just follows him eagerly into the little building. Derek’s delusions are ending right here, right now. 

Derek leads him and Rocky into a small waiting room. There are several people sitting there with dogs and cats and they all turn their heads to look as Stiles crawls in. He expects screams and pointing fingers and for someone to call the police, but all that happens is a little girl jumping up and down in her seat. “Mommy, look at the puppy!” she squeals. 

Derek talks briefly with the woman behind the counter and then takes a seat, nudging at Stiles to lie down. The little girl and her mother come over and Stiles stares wide-eyed at them, silently screaming at them to help him. “Can she pet it?” the mother asks Derek. 

“Of course.” Derek holds Stiles firmly, keeping him from jerking away as the little girl carefully strokes his head and back. “Isn’t she pretty?” he says to the girl. “She’s a brand-new puppy. I just got her yesterday. Her hair is so soft, isn’t it?” 

The girl looks worriedly at the muzzle. “Does it bite? My auntie has a puppy that used to bite.” 

“Oh, no, she’s a very good girl. That’s just to teach her how to make proper sounds.” 

Stiles whines pathetically, staring around the room to see if anyone here is willing to help, but they’re all focused on their pets or looking over at him with little smiles. How is this _possible?_ How can _everyone_ here be willing to play along? 

There’s a man sitting with another giant dog, which is watching Stiles with interest. When it gets to its feet Rocky growls deep in his throat and stands too. “Rocky,” Derek murmurs reprovingly. “Nobody’s going to take your bitch. Down.” 

Rocky keeps watching the other dog, then takes a few steps forward so he’s positioned in front of Stiles and shows his teeth. Stiles suddenly feels like a steak bone being fought over. 

The other dog sniffs at the ground and takes a step towards Stiles. Rocky barks warningly and lifts his leg directly over Stiles’ head. There’s a snarl that it takes a minute to identify as Derek— the sound had been so animalistic Stiles was sure it came from somewhere else. Rocky whines and puts his leg down reluctantly, still keeping a possessive stance over Stiles. 

“Let me guess,” says the other dog’s owner. He’s got a firm grip on the dog’s collar to keep it from taking another step. “New bitch?” 

“Just got her yesterday.” Derek grips Rocky’s collar too but doesn’t move him away from Stiles. 

“I’ve got one at home. Might as well just let him put his scent on her now— until he’s knotted her he’ll be desperate to put a claim on her. When my girl was new Thor here gave her a little urine bath every morning just to keep her in her place.” 

“Not inside. He knows better.” Derek gives a stern look to Rocky, who whines again and drops his head. 

There’s a buzz from the front desk and the woman calls over to them. “Derek, Dr. Deaton is ready for you.” 

“Thanks, Doris.” Derek tugs Stiles up. This time he tries to resist, but with the padding on his hands and feet he can’t even dig into the ground to keep himself from being dragged on the leash. Rocky butts his head against his side as if trying to get him to crawl. 

Derek takes him into a small examining room. “Oh my,” a calm voice says. “Look what we have here.” 

“Hey, Deaton. What do you think of her?” Derek lifts Stiles up easily and places him stomach-down on a metal examination table. Another man in a white coat— Deaton— uses straps attached the table to hold him still, stroking his arms soothingly when he tries to struggle. 

“She looks like she’s just the right size for Rocky. I hadn’t expected to see you in so soon, I thought you would need time to find a suitable pup.” 

“She’s a rescue,” Derek says, sounding proud. “Found her on the streets. I figured the easiest thing to do would be to take a stray.” 

“Impulsive of you.” 

“I saw her for the first time a week ago and have been following her around ever since to make sure she was right. Sweet thing came right to me when I finally approached.” Derek scratches gently under Stiles’ ears. 

“Let’s make sure she’s clean.” Deaton draws a sample of blood while Stiles lies there immobile. “Does she have a name?” 

“Not yet,” Derek says, sounding unenthused. Deaton snorts. 

“You have to call her something.” 

Derek shrugs. “I’ve been told I lack creativity. Any ideas?” 

“Hmm.” Deaton’s thumb traces over a constellation of moles on Stiles’ neck and back. “Spot?” 

They both laugh. “I’ll keep thinking,” Derek says. His hand traces the same path as Deaton’s, pausing to ruffle Stiles’ hair affectionately. “A pretty girl needs a pretty name.” 

Deaton pulls Stiles’ ass cheeks apart and makes a noise of approval. “Good, you already have in a plug. Go up by increments every two days. Remember, you should be fisting her for a week before she’s ready to be knotted. You’ll bring her in for the first fisting so I can guide you through it.” Deaton turns Stiles onto his back easily. “Good job on the bindings here. Do you want her fixed today?” 

“No. Once she’s neutered I won’t be able to keep Rocky off of her, and I don’t want him trying to breed her until her training’s finished.” 

“Okay. I’m still going to start the estrogen treatment today. It’ll make her training much easier for you and when the time comes to neuter her she’ll barely miss all of this.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“The first estrogen shot will be injected directly into her vocal folds, so you won’t have to worry about the muzzle much longer.” Deaton carefully removes the muzzle from Stiles’ face and Stiles feels him poking around inside Stiles’ mouth with one gloved hand, sliding his fingers along his gums. “She’s got nice teeth for a stray.” 

“She’s perfect,” Derek says proudly. “Aren’t you, sweet girl?” 

Rocky, sitting obediently on the ground, thumps his tail as if in agreement. 

“Let’s sedate her for the injections,” Deaton says, and within moments Stiles is forced back into darkness. 

X 

When he wakes up his head feels fuzzy and his mouth is dry. He swallows and realizes that his throat feels weird. It doesn’t exactly hurt, but it just feels sort of dry and swollen. He tries to cough but no sound comes out. 

Someone is stroking him, their hands gentle against his bare skin. It feels nice. But it’s not supposed to, right? It’s _bad_ … 

He blinks himself to full awareness. He’s still on the examination table and Derek is petting him. “Welcome back, pretty girl,” he says. “All done with your shots.” 

Deaton shines a light in his eyes, then, satisfied, lets Derek pull him off the table. Rocky immediately sniffs at him worriedly, then lets out a rumble of approval and licks his cheek. “Now now, big guy,” Deaton says, sounding amused. “Keep it sheathed. All right, Derek. I’ll see you, this lovely lady, and—” he pets Rocky affectionately— “this _tramp_ again next week.” 

Derek laughs, but Stiles is distracted by his own hands. That awful, dense padding is gone, replaced by something much softer and stretchier, like thick mittens. There’s not enough give to them that he can wriggle his hands out or even fold them into fists, but they make it much easier to move. He wiggles his toes as best he can and realizes the padding there has been replaced as well. 

“See?” Deaton says. “She likes the new paws much better. And like I said, they’re breathable, so you shouldn’t ever have to worry about replacing them unless you plan to take her mountain climbing.” 

Stiles glares at him, officially fed up with being referred to as _she_. He opens his mouth to tell Deaton off and realizes to his delight that the muzzle is gone. He tries to speak but all that comes out is a vibrating croak. 

Deaton looks satisfied. “And I see the shot is working. We’ll give her another one in her vocal folds next week and continue the treatments up until Rocky starts breeding her. You can get her fixed at any time; the more estrogen treatments she’s had, the easier it’ll be for her.” 

_What does that mean?_ Stiles has a terrifying feeling that he knows, but he can’t bear to think too much about it. Even the thought of what they had done to silence his voice is too much for his mind to handle. Derek leads him by the leash out of the room and Stiles keeps his head down so he doesn’t have to see all the casually accepting eyes watching him go. 

X 

Back at Derek’s house he’s led back out to the garage. He’s starving and despite himself hopes that Derek will fill up the food bowl— the pellets are bland, but at least they’re food. 

Derek sits almost directly in front of him, something clutched in his hand. He holds his hand out to the far left of his body and opens his palm. It’s one of those carob-coated peanut butter balls. Stiles’ stomach growls so fiercely it hurts. 

“Lady,” Derek says. 

Stiles ignores him. He stares longingly at the treat. Something with taste; something _sweet_ … 

“Lady,” Derek repeats. “ _Lady_.” 

What the hell is that supposed to mean? Stiles turns his eyes to Derek and Derek immediately smiles and holds out his hand with the treat. “Good girl!” 

Stiles hesitantly takes the treat with his teeth. God, it’s _so_ good he sees spots for a second. Derek pets him while he chews and Stiles doesn’t even care. 

“You like that, girl?” Derek reaches into his pocket and pulls out another, holding it away from his body. Stiles’ eyes shoot to it slavishly. “Lady,” Derek says, and this time Stiles looks right at him. 

“Good girl! Good Lady!” Derek gives him the treat and once it’s in his mouth Stiles gets it. Derek is using _Lady_ like his _name_. _A pretty girl needs a pretty name…_

His cheeks turn bright red and he considers spitting out the treat to spite Derek, but it’s too late; he’s already swallowed it. Derek stands, holding out his palm to tell Stiles to stay, and walks to the other end of the room. He pulls the whole bag of treats out of his pocket and shakes them. “Here, Lady.” 

Stiles almost whines. He can’t respond to that name. 

“Lady. _Lady_.” 

But he wants another peanut butter treat. He can’t function without food. 

“Here, girl. Here, Lady.” 

And what will Derek do to him if he refuses? Doesn’t it make more sense to play along so he has a chance to escape? 

“ _Lady_.” Derek’s voice is very firm now. He shakes the bag of treats insistently. 

_It doesn’t mean anything,_ Stiles tells himself. _It’s just a word_. He hesitantly pads across the room and stops at Derek’s feet. 

Derek is ecstatic. “Good girl, Lady! Such a good Lady!” He lets Stiles have two more treats before putting the bag away again. “I’m so proud of you,” he croons, ruffling Stiles’ hair and ears until Stiles cringes away. 

Derek spends the next several hours training Stiles to respond to his new name, until he unhesitatingly obeys _sit, Lady,_ and _here, Lady,_ and _roll over, Lady_ — when he performs that one Derek scratches his belly, making him writhe against the ground. 

He’s put back in the cage for a long time after that. At one point he hears a car, and feels hopeful, but he soon realizes it must have just been Derek driving away somewhere. Now that he’s alone he tries to speak out loud, or wiggle his hands free from the mittens, but nothing happens. He feels completely helpless. 

Hours later he hears a car again and Derek comes back into the garage. He takes off the hated collar, which makes Stiles very happy, but replaces it with a brand-new one. This one is much thicker, and there’s a tag attached to it. Stiles can see the name proudly etched on: **LADY.**

When he lies down on the floor and the tag flips he can see the rest: **OWNER’S INFORMATION. NAME: DEREK HALE. ADDRESS: 1 SILVER LANE, BEACON HILLS. IF FOUND, PLEASE CALL…**. On and on. A tag should be totally pointless on a kidnap victim— but, in this little community, maybe not. Stiles thinks of the people he’s met so far. If he ran away and they found him, they would return him to his _owner_ in a heartbeat. He can’t even remember how long the drive out here was. Who knows how far he’d have to run to find help? 

He makes a distressed sound just thinking about it and Derek pets him. “Shh, Lady. I’ve got a special treat for you tonight.” 

The “special treat” turns out to be a new dog crate that Derek carries in from his car. This one is much, much bigger, which cheers Stiles up a little, but he’s horrified as soon as he realizes why: he’s not going to be sleeping alone tonight. After he crawls inside Rocky bounds over and joins him, curling around his body possessively. “He knows to be a good boy,” Derek says in response to Stiles’ terrified look. “This is just to make sure you’re comfortable together and he can get his scent on you. That way we can avoid another scene like we had at the vet.” He locks the cage securely, reaching through one last time to pet the both of them. “My sweet pups. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Rocky falls asleep quickly. His heavy breathing and the rise and fall of his chest is oddly soothing, almost hypnotic. As much as Stiles wants to hate him he has to admit that the dog’s warmth feels good in the cold garage. He closes his eyes and finds that tonight it’s much easier to fall asleep. 

_Tomorrow_ , he promises himself as he starts to drift off. _Tomorrow I'll escape._

X 

Inside the house, Derek smiles as he checks his security cameras. He trusts Rocky— more than he trusts Lady at this point— but he wants to make sure his pets are getting along well. 

Lady is already snuggled up to Rocky, curled against his warm body like the perfect bitch. He knew she would be. Some humans are born to be pets and his Lady— he’s already forced himself to forget that idiotic other name she’d used— is one of them. 

Derek had never expected to get a human bitch, but as Rocky began to mature he’d realized it was going to be a necessity. That dog is practically all the family he has now, and Derek would do anything to make the big, lovable puppy happy. 

Not to mention how happy it makes him to have another pet. Being Alpha over Rocky is one thing; he’s somewhere between dog and human and making him submit always fills Derek with a rush of power. But to be Master over a human— well, that will be a challenge and reward all its own. 

It will take her a while to be trained and housebroken, he knows, but just like every other human bitch he’s ever met she’ll learn how to behave. She’ll be happy here once she realizes her purpose. Derek is a good owner; he’ll help her all he can. 

He gives his pups one last fond look before shutting off the cameras and heading to his bedroom. As he pulls back the covers he imagines letting his pets sleep curled up at the foot of the bed one day. It’s a lovely image of Lady’s future, one of many that he pictures as he drifts into satisfied sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured I'd try out Derek's POV at the end. Let me know if you want more of it or if you'd like to stick with Stiles'.
> 
> Probably like 2 more chapters? Just kind of making it up as I go along!


	3. Chapter 3

The chance to escape doesn’t come the next day, or the day after that. Stiles tries. He really does. But Derek always has him in the cage or on the leash and it never feels like he gets the opportunity. 

He does make a real go of it once, after he gets the hang of crawling on all fours. Derek takes them out into the yard to “play” and gets then ducks back into the house to grab something. Stiles starts to crawl towards the road, only to hear Rocky barking at him so fiercely that he freezes immediately. Visions of the dog running after and pinning him flash in his mind. Rocky keeps growling at him so he reluctantly turns around and shuffles back. 

Annoyingly, Derek, who had come back outside at the barking, is pleased at the sight. “Good girl!” he croons, dropping to his knees to ruffle Stiles’ hair with both hands. “That’s exactly right, you obey him when he calls you. Good Lady.” He kisses the top of Stiles’ head and tosses a ball into the middle of the yard, encouraging Stiles to chase it. Instead Stiles lies down sulkily, watching Rocky grab the ball and run it back to Derek with stupid excitement each time he throws it. 

Since Stiles is too afraid to run away with Rocky always on lookout, he starts to consider finding a phone in the house and dialing 911. But all Derek has is a cell phone, which he keeps on him at all times. Besides, Stiles couldn’t work the phone with this stupid “paws,” or speak into it if he actually managed to get hold of someone. 

It has to be _soon_ , he tells himself firmly. Every day Derek subjects him to new indignities. Two days after the vet’s visit Derek proclaims it “bathtime” and sets up what looks like a kiddy pool in the yard. “Lady first,” he says, unstrapping the collar from around Stiles’ neck. The paws and brace around his legs stay on, but Derek takes off the wrapping around his penis and balls. It’s a relief to be free of it, but Rocky growls as soon as he sees, making Derek laugh. 

“This is just how bitches look before they mature, boy. The vet will take care of it soon.” 

Stiles glares at him, then flails as Derek garbs him around the middle and deposits him in the soapy water. It’s one humiliation too far and he tries to fight back, soaking Derek and himself in the process. Derek soaps up his hair and scrubs his skin with a rough brush before lifting him back out. There’s no towel and Stiles shivers, shaking out his hair as Rocky gleefully jumps into the pool. 

That night Rocky licks him all over and Stiles knows he’s trying to put his scent on Stiles’ skin. That’s another indignity— the way Derek acts like Stiles _belongs_ to Rocky and everything Rocky does to dominate him makes Derek so proud. But there’s no way out. There’s nothing he can do. 

Derek starts taking him and Rocky for “walks” during the day, which is a little encouraging— Stiles wants to get a better sense of his surroundings. It’s slow going, since Rocky keeps stopping to sniff or piss on something. 

During one such walk Derek’s cell phone rings and he answers it, slowing to a stop and holding the leashes tightly. “Hey, Scott. Just out for a walk. What’s up?” 

Stiles’ heart lifts. If he can make a noise, maybe the person on the other end will know something is wrong and alert authorities for him. He crawls to Derek and tries to jump up on him, wanting to get as close to the phone as possible. 

Derek pushes him down easily. “Lady, _stop_. Bad girl. Sorry, Lady’s getting underfoot. What were you saying?” 

Stiles whines. His vocal cords still feel all dry and swollen, and the noise he makes doesn’t even sound human. _Damn it_. 

“Socializing?” Derek frowns. “I don’t know if she’s ready for that. And Rocky made such a scene at the vet’s last week that I don’t really want to take her around other pups just yet. Maybe if there’s another human bitch there, so she can see how to behave…” 

Stiles’ heart sinks all the way to his toes. It must be another werewolf. They won’t be willing to help him. 

“That would be good. She has another vet’s visit next week, so let’s schedule it for after that. Another estrogen treatment should make sure she’s not going to get aggressive with the other dogs.” Derek reaches down absentmindedly to scratch Stiles’ head. “Thanks for calling, Scott. Talk to you later.” He hangs up and drops to his knees, ruffling Stiles’ hair. “You want to go play with some other puppies, Lady?” 

Stiles rolls his eyes. He’s so fucking sick of the word _Lady_. Now it’s painted on his water and food bowl, and Derek never misses an opportunity to call him by it. 

The annoying thing is that Stiles always _has_ to respond. He hates the tasteless pellets so much that he lives for the treats Derek gives him when he obeys orders. Usually it’s the peanut butter ones, but sometimes he gets molasses ones or ones that taste like Butterfingers. They’re the lone bright spot of this shitty situation. 

“We’ll go play next week.” Derek looks over at Rocky, currently lifting his leg over an exposed tree root. “And you’re going to behave yourself when we go, aren’t you, boy?” 

Somehow Stiles doubts that. After they’d shared a crate Rocky is being much more… _possessive_ over Stiles. It drives him crazy. He’s constantly rubbing himself against Stiles or licking him or growling at him if he tries to step away. And later that day when Derek takes out the butt plug and tries to replace it with something bigger— 

“Rocky,” Derek says warningly as he works the smallest part of the plug in and out of Stiles’ ass. “That’s enough growling. I don’t need the both of you getting excited.” 

Stiles is currently whimpering as best he can with his swollen vocal cords. The plug _hurts_. He’s never had something this big inside of him before. Rocky whines at the reproach from Derek and Stiles hears him take a few steps towards them. He whines again, more plaintively this time. 

“What?” Derek stops working the plug. “You want to help?” 

Another whine. 

“Hmm.” Derek considers for a moment, absentmindedly patting the flesh of Stiles’ ass. “All right. Easy now.” He pulls Stiles’ cheeks apart, exposing him to Rocky. “Get her nice and wet for me, pup.” 

Stiles tries desperately to wriggle away but Derek leans on him and prevents him from moving. Rocky starts to lick with his warm, rough tongue, getting him so sloppy Stiles can feel dog saliva dripping down his thighs. The dog is making sounds almost like moans and he pushes his tongue deeper and deeper until he’s all Stiles can feel. 

“So good, boy,” Derek murmurs, finally pulling Rocky away. “Look how wet her pussy is now. Just what I needed.” He starts working the plug in again, until it’s finally in all the way. He gives Stiles’ ass another pat and then tugs Stiles’ down so he’s half-laying across Derek’s lap. Derek pulls Rocky close with his other arm and pets them both. “Such good pups,” he says, sounding very satisfied. 

Rocky has his eyes fixed on Stiles, tongue still lolling out of his mouth. Stiles looks down and sees to his horror that Rocky’s cock has emerged from its sheath. It’s red and pointed, looking almost angry. And big. Much bigger than Stiles has ever seen or imagined on a dog. This must be part of that special genetic engineering— part of what makes them too big to mate with regular dogs. 

Derek sees where he’s looking and smiles. “That’s right, girl,” he says softly, lightly scratching Stiles’ stomach. “That’s all for you. He’s a big boy, isn’t he? Won’t it feel good to have that nice big stud knotting you? You’ll need to learn how to make him happy. You’ll use your mouth and pussy to satisfy him, just like a good bitch.” 

Stiles makes a croaky noise of disgust and Derek gives his side a firm pat. “Shh. You’re made for this. It won’t be hard for you. He’ll make you feel good too, sweet girl.” 

He moves his hand up to tug at Stiles’ nipples, which have felt extra-sensitive and hard ever since the visit to Deaton. Stiles feels his back arch at the sensation. “See? It may not be what you’re used to, but you’ll learn to take your pleasure with him.” 

Stiles tries to shake his head frantically but Derek ignores him and focuses on scratching a happily panting Rocky under the ears. The night, when Stiles and Rocky share a crate again all Stiles can think about is that huge dick and how long it will be before Derek decides he’s _ready_ for it. 

X 

Stiles can’t believe it when a week has passed and they’re back at Deaton’s. Today he doesn’t bother to look around the room for help; he knows nobody there is on his side. 

“So she’s doing well?” Deaton asks Derek after Stiles is again strapped down to the table. 

“Honestly, she’s perfect. She learns quickly and she’s bonding well with Rocky. I don’t think I could have found a better pup if I searched for ten years.” 

“Good. Since you’re sure you’re keeping her you’ll need to register her with the AWPC.” 

Derek makes an annoyed sound. “I don’t see the need to pay a fee for my own pet.” 

“It’s a necessary evil. You don’t know if there’s anyone looking for her out in the human world. The AWPC will make sure her disappearance doesn’t gain any attention. Did she have ID when you took her?” 

“Yeah. Uh, let me see…” Derek digs in his pocket for his own wallet and pulls out Stiles’ driver’s license. Stiles’ eyes widen. He’d been wondering where that was. “There was an apartment key too. I destroyed the phone already.” 

“Here’s a registration form. Send this to the AWPC along with the key and license. They’ll do whatever they have to do— fake a death or forge a runaway note or whatever— and let you know when that’s taken care of and she’s a licensed pet. Then you can get her microchipped and everything, and if she somehow goes missing they’ll help you track her down.” Deaton smiles slightly. “Besides, you can’t enter her into any pet shows if she’s not registered, and she’s such a beautiful pup that I don’t think you want to miss out on that.” 

Derek sighs but takes the form. 

“Now, let’s get her shots taken care of. We’ll have another injection into her vocal folds and then a regular injection. No negative effects to the estrogen that you can see?” 

“No. She’s been much less aggressive than she was at the very beginning. And I haven’t needed to use the muzzle all week.” 

“Then let’s go ahead and put her under again.” 

Once more Stiles is forced into unconsciousness and wakes up sometimes later to Derek’s caresses. Deaton is squeezing his balls lightly, talking to Derek about continuing with the bindings until it’s time to have him “fixed,” and Stiles whines loudly. He feels like he might start crying right there, and he wonders just what effect the estrogen is having on him. Come to think of it, he should have stubble from a week of not shaving, but his face is totally smooth… 

“She’s shedding,” Deaton says after running his hand over Stiles’ leg. “Two more treatments and she should be totally hairless. You’re doing very well with her, Derek. Keep going as you are and I’ll see you in two weeks.” 

Stiles feels listless and faraway during the entire drive home. _Derek’s house,_ he corrects himself angrily as soon as the thought pops into his head. _Not home_. Rocky keeps nudging at him with his nose as if he can tell. Stiles tries to kick him away. He shouldn’t be feeling so hopeless, as if he already knows escape is impossible. He has to stay positive. It’s just so hard when he doesn’t even have control of his own body. 

When Derek stops the car and comes to help them out of the backseat he seems to be able to tell Stiles’ mood too. “Sweet girl,” he says softly, taking Stiles’ face in his hands so his thumbs gently brush Stiles’ cheeks. “What did you have before that was better than this, hm? So many people spend their whole lives trying to find their purpose, and here yours is, handed to you.” He kisses Stiles’ forehead. “Don’t you know how proud I am to own such a beautiful pet? How well you’ll be treated here? There’s nothing to mourn, puppy.” 

Stiles turns his head away. Derek leads him by the leash into the house, but instead of taking him out to the garage he unclips the leash and takes a seat at a workdesk set up against the wall. Stiles hesitates, unsure of what he’s allowed to do right now. Rocky walks a circle on the rug and then lies down, rumbling contentedly as his eyes close. 

“Lady,” Derek calls, patting his leg. Stiles reluctantly crawls over and lets Derek place his head against Derek’s thigh. “Good girl,” Derek murmurs, scratching his scalp lightly as he fills out that registration form with his other hand. 

Stiles squints at it, trying to read what it says. The top reads _American Werewolf Pet Club._ Derek is filling out all the information. _Owner’s Name. Pet’s Name. Pet’s Former Name. Pet’s Sex. Pet’s Gender. Describe method of finding pet. List all alterations made to pet’s appearance._ Derek fills it out, using Stiles’ license to write down all his information while Stiles squirms uncomfortably. 

When Derek finishes he puts the form, Stiles’ apartment key, and Stiles’ license into a manila envelope. Stiles tries to stop him but Derek just pushes him down. “Sh, sh. Now you’ll officially be a pet, Lady. Nobody can take you away from me. Won’t that be good, sweet girl? This will officially be your home.” His hand kneads at the knots at the top of Stiles’ spine, which feels so good Stiles stops fighting and goes lax. Derek smiles at him. “There’s my good girl,” he murmurs, giving Stiles a treat. 

Today Stiles is fed in the kitchen, with his bowls placed right next to Rocky’s. It’s humiliating eating with the dog there on the floor but at least it’s nice and warm inside. After they eat and are taken outside to do their business Derek lets them come back inside and into the living room. He sits on the couch and turns on the TV. “No pets on the furniture, Lady,” he says gently when he sees Stiles looking dubiously at the sofa. “You can lie down on the floor.” 

Stiles scowls, but does so, resting his cheek against the soft carpet. Derek puts on a movie or something, and Stiles feels himself start to relax a little, lulled by the warm house, carpet, and dimmed lights. Derek reaches down and starts to pet him but for once it just feels sort of soothing and nice. Stiles yawns hugely and nestles into the carpet. 

He naps there for a while, until the movie is over and credits are rolling. “Lady,” Derek croons, tugging at his collar. “Time to go out in the crate.” 

Stiles whines plaintively. He can’t bear the crate again. He turns his head into Derek’s leg and rubs his cheek against Derek’s jeans. 

Derek is quiet for a minute, considering. “Will you be a good girl if I let you sleep in the house?” 

Yawning again, Stiles nods. 

“That’s not how good pets answer a question. Answer me properly and I’ll let you sleep inside.” 

Stiles blinks sleepily up at Derek. What does he mean? How does a good pet answer? He looks at Rocky for help and Rocky lets out a loud bark. 

Is _that_ what he’s supposed to do? Stiles opens his mouth and tries to get a sound out of his swollen throat. It takes a moment, but a high-pitched sound like an _arf_ emerges. It doesn’t even hurt the way trying to speak sometimes does. 

“That was perfect, Lady! Good Lady!” Derek heaps praise and love on him, rubbing him all over his body and kissing his forehead. He leads Stiles to a small room with a dog bed, water bowl and plenty of puppy toys scattered around. Rocky immediately bounds over to the bed, turns a circle, and lies down. After a nudge from Derek Stiles crawls over to join him. 

After a week in the crate the dog bed feels like the softest thing he’s ever felt and he sighs with pure happiness. His head rests against Rocky so the dog’s rumbling breaths seem to vibrate all through his body. He doesn’t even care when he hears Derek close and lock the door. 

In the morning when Derek comes to get them Rocky bounds over to him, jumping up on him and licking his face to say hello. Stiles crawls over too. He wants Derek to decide he should sleep in the house every night, so he decides to play along a little: he rubs his forehead and cheek against Derek’s pant leg just like he had the night before. 

Derek reaches down to stroke his cheek. “Morning, pretty girl. Did you sleep well?” 

Stiles _arfs_ obediently and is delighted when Derek immediately rewards him by holding down the peach he was eating and letting Stiles have a bite. After a week of nothing but dry pellets and peanut butter candies the fruit is downright heavenly. 

“My best girl,” Derek says, sounding very satisfied as he drops to his knees and ruffles Stiles’ hair. “How’d I get so lucky as to find you, huh?” 

Stiles keeps his eyes on the peach, and, with a tolerant smile, Derek gives him another bite. He tosses the pit into the trash can and holds out his hand, sticky with juice. “Clean me up, Lady.” 

Without a second thought Stiles licks his hand clean. It’s not until Derek withdraws it and pats him on the head that he realizes how _weird_ that was. Humans don’t use their tongues like that. He’d acted just like a dog and the fact that it had felt like second nature is terrifying to him. Is it just the power of suggestion? Or is there something in the food Derek is giving him? The water? The _shots?_

Derek takes them outside and Stiles notes again with worry how easy it is to lift his leg and piss in the grass and squat on his haunches and relieve himself. He’s pretty sure the food is laced with something that makes it impossible to hold it in, but every day it gets a little easier and less humiliating. 

When he’s finished Derek sits down with him to replace the butt plug. Rocky always “helps” now— Stiles has given up fighting it, but he still hears himself whining as Derek pushes the pug in. It keeps getting bigger and bigger and each time he thinks he definitely won’t be able to take it, but Derek always manages to get it in. 

“So perfect, pretty girl,” Derek praises once the plug is in place. He kneads the flesh of Stiles’ ass, rubbing his thumbs into the muscle. It always feels so good that Stiles doesn’t resist. “You look so beautiful like this. Such a good puppy.” He kisses Stiles cheek and grabs his leash. “We’re taking a ride now. Get in the car.” 

Today he doesn’t lift Stiles into the car like he usually does, but waits for him to stretch his body and crawl onto the seat just like Rocky. Stiles is worried— it isn’t time for another vet’s visit, unless Derek has something else planned for him that he isn’t aware of. As they drive Derek rolls down the window and Rocky sticks his head out joyfully. 

They don’t take the route to the vet, but instead drive down some small back roads to another house deep in the woods. “Shh,” he says soothingly when he opens the door and sees Stiles trembling a little. “You’re always safe when you’re with me, Lady. Everything’s all right.” He takes the leash and guides Stiles out. 

When he rings the doorbell there’s a chorus of barks from the other side. It opens to reveal a relaxed-looking man holding a dog on a leash. It’s another giant one, like Rocky, and when it eyes Stiles up he has to repress an idiotic urge to hide behind Rocky and Derek’s legs. 

“Hey, Derek,” the man says. “She’s beautiful. Come on in.” 

Derek tugs the leash so Stiles will crawl into the house. In the living room he sees two other adults, a man and a woman, standing amid two more giant dogs— and one person who isn’t a dog at all. 

A man Stiles’ age is on all fours, just as naked as Stiles, save for “paws” like his and a plug with a long fluffy tail coming out of his ass. His mouth is open and his breath is coming in pants, just like the other dogs around him. “Bella!” Derek croons, and the man looks right at him with a delighted look on his face. “Here, girl!” 

The man lopes across the room in easy strides, obviously comfortable in this position. He jumps up on Derek, paws on his chest. Derek laughs and ruffles his hair. “She’s gained weight, Peter,” he says to the other man in the room. 

“Before she settled in she was trying to go on a hunger strike. She’s past all that silliness now, aren’t you, Bella?” 

Bella— Stiles hates to use that name, since he’s sure that isn’t the man’s _real_ name— lets out a happy _arf_ exactly like the sound Stiles just learned. Stiles’ eyes travel down the man’s body and it feels like his stomach plummets. The man doesn’t have testicles, and his penis is just a little nub. The man doesn’t seem to be bothered by this at all. He’s flopped over onto his back so Derek can scratch his stomach, tongue lolling out of his mouth. 

He feels something behind him and realizes one of the other dogs is sniffing his ass. Rocky growls at it, but doesn’t get to his feet like he would at the vet. He must know these other dogs. 

The man who had let them in drops to his knees and starts to pet Stiles. “You’re a beautiful girl,” he croons in the doggie-baby-voice Derek slips into sometimes. “Oh, you _are_. You really just found her on the street, Derek?” 

“Yep. Nobody was taking care of her. She was all alone, poor girl.” Derek scratches just behind his ear. Stiles isn’t used to having this many people touching him and it makes him feel sort of panicked. He finds himself wishing desperately he was home with 

“Good for you for rescuing. I bet that makes it easier for her to settle in.” 

“Well, we’re getting there.” Derek nudges Stiles towards the dogs playing with puppy toys on the rug. “Go on, Lady. Play with your friends.” 

Stiles whines and presses his forehead into Derek’s leg. After a few more attempts to get him to join the others Derek just shrugs and takes a seat, letting Stiles lay down by the chair. He pets Stiles’ head and back lazily as they all chat about their pets. The man who had let them in is Scott, and the woman is his wife Kira. They have a dog named Midnight, but no pet human, though Scott says wistfully that they’re going to start “looking” soon. Peter has _two_ giant dogs, who apparently “share” his human. “They fight over her sometimes,” he says with a casual shrug. “Helps them get out their aggression. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” 

Stiles tunes them out and watches the dogs warily. The human is “playing” with them, chewing on some sort of toy that seems specially designed just for him. There’s a treat inside that he finally works free and starts to gnaw on happily. “Good job, Bella!” Peter calls, patting his thigh so Bella can run to him for caresses and kisses. 

One of the other dogs seems to want Stiles to play. He rolls a red ball across the floor to Stiles and waits for him to roll it back. Stiles scowls and turns his head away. The dog pads over and nudges at Stiles with his nose. 

Fed up with this bullshit Stiles feels his lips curl over his teeth and an angry sound escapes from his throat. Immediately the dog’s fur stands on end and he snarls back. Stiles sees him crouching in preparation to jump and experiences a moment of such terror he can’t even breathe. 

Then he hears two more roars, from Derek and Rocky. Derek stands and Stiles sees his eyes change, flashing at the dog, who immediately tucks his tail between his legs and makes himself small. Rocky rushes over and puts himself in front of Stiles, teeth bared at the dog. 

“ _Down,_ Goliath!” Peter roars at his other dog, who seems ready to jump into the fray and defend his fellow. There’s a long, tense moment of standoff while Stiles presses himself close to Derek, hiding his face in Derek’s leg. Eventually there’s another whimper and Stiles watches both dogs slink off to the corner. The human scampers after them as if he’s looking for protection. 

After another moment Peter snorts and relaxes his own slightly defensive pose. “Fuck me, they’re monsters. Sorry about that, Derek.” 

“It was my fault. I should have realized she wasn’t ready.” Derek has hold of Stiles’ leash and grips it so tightly that Stiles couldn’t crawl away if he wanted to. “We should go. I don’t want any more trouble. Sorry, Scott and Kira.” 

“No problem, man. We’ll try again when she’s matured a bit, okay?” Scott walks them to the door. Derek has scooped up Stiles in his arms so he doesn’t have to crawl out which he appreciates; he’s too terrified of the dogs to move. 

Derek doesn’t speak on the ride back home, but Rocky, seemingly understanding Stiles’ fear, keeps nuzzling him gently. Stiles sniffles and pushes his face into Rocky’s fur. He wonders how long Bella has lived with those other dogs, and if he’s really as brainwashed as he seems. 

When they reach home Derek helps him out of the car and takes him into the house, where he sits down on the carpet and cuddles him. “My poor puppy,” he says tenderly. “I’m so sorry that happened. You can’t growl at bigger dogs, Lady. You need to learn to _submit._ ” He kisses Stiles’ forehead and glances down at the wrappings around his junk, a distasteful look on his face. “That will be much easier for you soon. But Master and Rocky will always take care of you and protect you from dogs like that. That’s why it’s so important you stay here with us, where you’re safe.” 

Stiles sniffles again and leans into Derek’s caresses. Derek pats his back and brushes away a tear caught in the corner of Stiles’ eye. “Rocky,” he calls. “Come here. Your girl needs kisses.” 

Rocky bounds over and starts to lick Stiles’ face, long wet tongue pressing against his lips. Usually Stiles hates that but right now, with Derek and Rocky close by, he feels weirdly safe. He knows that’s wrong, and everything’s all mixed up, so he closes his eyes and tries not to think. He’s surprised by how easy it is. 

X 

Every day Lady sinks deeper and deeper into her new life. Derek is pretty sure she doesn’t even realize it. She’s become much more comfortable around him and Rocky, and she doesn’t resist the leash or plugs anymore. She won’t be a proper bitch until she’s been knotted, of course, but that day is drawing closer and closer. Derek can’t wait until it arrives and his little pack is complete. 

Two and a half weeks after finding her Derek stops by the mailbox after a walk and finds a thickly padded envelope. Lady whines at the pause in the walk, and, when Derek doesn’t move, begrudgingly lifts her leg over a thick patch of grass. Derek is pleased. Usually she needs more coaxing. “Good girl, Lady,” he murmurs absent-mindedly as he opens the envelope. 

_FROM: The AWPC_

 _TO: Derek Hale_

 _

Dear Mr. Hale, 

Thank you for contacting us regarding your recently acquired pet. We have followed up on your application to ensure that your pet’s absence will not raise an alarm. You may consider its former identity eradicated. It is now of the utmost importance that your pet never be allowed to return to human civilization. If you are no longer able to care for her please let us know so we can make alternate arrangements for her. Please contact us for more details, if you would like them. 

We have entered your pet’s information into our national database. We encourage you to have her microchipped to ensure her information stays up to date. 

There are many benefits of AWPC registration and we have enclosed out newsletter for your perusal. Please note the schedule of upcoming pet shows in your community. Pets may only be entered if they reach full maturity… 

We congratulate you on the new addition to your household and wish you many happy days with your new pet.

_

Derek grins and calls Lady over so he can ruffle her hair. “This is the best day, Lady!” he croons. 

Lady lets out a questioning _arf_. Derek thinks she likes being able to communicate, so he encourages it as much as he can. 

“Now you’re officially my puppy forever!” There’s a little tag for her collar with the AWPC logo and Derek clips it on. “Oh, pretty girl!” He kisses the tip of Lady’s nose and digs in his pocket for a treat. Lady eats it out of his hand, lips soft against his palm. There’s a little frown on her face as if she’s trying to work out what Derek had said, but at least she’s not reacting with aggression. Deaton’s shots are doing their job. 

She’s not all the way settled yet, Derek knows, but very soon she’ll be a perfect puppy. Derek’s stands up again and tugs on her and Rocky’s leashes, walking both his pups home with a smile he can’t get rid of on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta decide if Stiles is getting "fixed" by the next chapter. If you have a preference on that, sound off below and I'll probably just go with what the majority wants :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys: this is the big one. Detailed castration scene at the end of this chapter.
> 
> Let me repeat that: CASTRATION. It happens in this chapter. Darkest thing I've ever written. You have now been well-warned!
> 
> Also, I got a request that Derek "uses" Stiles himself, so that's there too. This is for sure the darkest chapter of the piece so please give those tags one more look-over before proceeding!

A month after his kidnapping, Stiles has a nightmare. He’s back home in his apartment, running up the stairs to escape something chasing him. When he reaches his apartment door his hands shake and slip on his keys and it seems to take forever before he finally fits them in the lock and bursts through. 

Inside everything is dark. Stiles can’t see his furniture or his windows or anything, just a single table with a man sitting at it. He stares right at Stiles with an inscrutable expression on his face. His voce echoes in Stiles’ head, loud as a thunderclap: 

_Bad Lady._

Stiles feels himself curling up, making himself small. Then it’s like he keeps shrinking, becoming tinier and tinier as Derek looms over him. He looks at his reflection in Derek’s eyes and sees only a small puppy, shivering on the floor. 

Stiles’ eyes pop open. He’s lying in the doggy bed with Rocky, cheek pressed against the dog’s side. Rocky is sleeping soundly. He’d tired himself out that day running through sprinklers that Derek set up. Stiles had joined in a little, dancing in and out of the stream because the cool water felt good. 

He blinks down at himself, at the paws around his hands and the way he’s molded himself to Rocky. He hears a faraway rumble of thunder— that must have been what woke him up— and it’s like the flash of lightning goes off in his own brain: 

_What the hell am I doing?_

He slowly starts to pull away from Rocky, knowing that the dog will wake up if he isn’t careful. There’s another small _boom_ of thunder and Rocky whimpers slightly in his sleep. His paws tighten, pinning Stiles’ hand. 

Stiles squeezes his eyes shut desperately and slowly pulls his hand free, moving it by centimeters until it’s out. Rocky whines again and Stiles freezes, staying completely still for two full minutes, counting the seconds until he’s sure Rocky isn’t waking up. 

Then he crawls across the floor to the door. He’s almost sure Derek has stopped locking it, but he still holds his breath as he reaches up to the knob. It’s hard to navigate the knob with these stupid paws on, and three times they slip right off, but on the fourth try the knob twists and the door creaks open. Rocky whimpers again, louder this time. 

Stiles crawls out of the room, going as slowly as possible so his tags won’t jingle. He just has to get to the door. Once he’s outside maybe he can get this brace off his legs, so he can run. He’ll follow the road the opposite way from the vet, running until he finds someone to help him. Hopefully, in the rain, Derek and Rocky won’t be able to track him. 

The house is confusing in the dark and it takes him several minutes to feel his way to the living room, only feet away from the door. Rain is steadily pounding the roof now and, as Stiles starts towards the door, there’s another thunderclap, this time deafening. 

From the dog room he’d just left he hears a wild, earsplitting howl. Rocky must have been woken up by the thunder and found him gone. Stiles hears footsteps coming from Derek’s bedroom and he panics, diving forward so he can hide in the space under the couch. 

Derek swears loudly and Rocky keeps letting out little howls, almost like sobs. “Sh, boy,” Derek says, voice tight. “We’ll find her.” 

Stiles curls up in a ball, trying to figure out what to do. Should he run for the door? Hope that they’ll go outside so he can go out through the garage and run another way? 

“Lady! Derek calls, voice a commanding boom. “ _Here,_ girl!” 

Incredibly, a part of Stiles wants to respond, wants to run to him for a treat or next order. He doesn’t know what to do, after all, and anything would be better than hiding in this small space waiting to be found… 

“ _Lady!_ ” 

Rocky barks as if calling for him too. Footsteps come closer, into the living room. “I hear her,” Derek says. 

_How?_ Stiles isn’t making a sound… 

The footsteps approach him and he curls into a tighter ball. He sees Derek’s feet pause in front of the couch, and seconds later his hand appears, beckoning forward. “Come out of there, Lady.” 

Stiles lets out a pathetic sob, unwilling to move even though there’s no chance now he’s getting out. Derek waits for a moment, then withdraws his hand. When it comes back, there’s a treat in it. “Here, Lady.” 

He doesn’t care about the treat, but there’s no more point staying under the couch. Slowly, Stiles pulls himself forward until he’s free. Derek is still holding the treat so Stiles eats it, afraid to look him in the eye. 

“Good girl,” Derek murmurs. Much to Stiles’ surprise Derek starts to pet him, hands gentle. Rocky presses in, whining a little as thunder cracks again. “It’s okay, boy,” Derek says. “I think the storm scared her and she wanted to hide from it. Isn’t that right, Lady?” 

They both know that isn’t true, but Stiles only lets out a little whimper of assent and lets himself be petted. Rocky licks the tears off his cheeks, then nuzzles him with his nose. Trying to make him feel better. Stiles squeezes his eyes shut and lets them pet and comfort him. 

Eventually Derek leads him by the collar to his own bedroom and helps him up onto the foot of the bed. Rocky curls up with him and Derek clips back under the covers. Stiles lies awake for a while, waiting for the rain to stop completely before he falls asleep. 

_I will never leave here,_ he tells himself over and over until the words don’t make him feel panicked. Eventually he falls asleep and dreams only of running through warm grass on all fours. 

X 

The next morning Stiles and Rocky are both loaded into the car and taken to the vet’s again. This isn’t a scheduled visit, Stiles knows; he hears Derek quietly asking Deaton for an extra shot of estrogen “to make sure she won’t keep acting up.” 

“How’s the training going?” Deaton asks after the shot is administered, spreading Stiles’ cheeks so he can take a clinical look at the plug. 

“Good. I think I need to go up two more sizes before I can begin fisting her.” 

“Keep me updated.” Deaton clucks in annoyance when Rocky growls at him, obviously impatient with how much Deaton is touching Stiles. “Is he like this all the time?” 

“Pretty much, yeah. He hasn’t had any objection to me touching her, but anyone else…” 

“See that he doesn’t start. You don’t want to throw off your pack dynamic.” Deaton pats Stiles’ rump absentmindedly. “Quite a few bitch owners choose to put a claim on her first, so the dog doesn’t forget who the Alpha is. You might want to consider that.” 

“Maybe,” Derek says a little dubiously. “That wouldn’t confuse Lady? I don’t want her thinking she’s here to please both of us.” 

“Oh, no, once she’s been knotted she’ll know she’s there for Rocky to breed. This just reminds the both of them that you’re the Alpha, and you have rights over her whenever you might want her. If anything it helps cement the bond between bitch and master. I recommend it, anyway.” 

Derek makes a noncommittal sound and clips the leash to Stiles’ collar to lead him back to the car. 

Back home Stiles is surprised when Derek takes off the brace from around his legs. It hasn’t come off once since he’d been taken and immediately he tries to stretch, desperate to extend his legs all the way. “Easy, Lady,” Derek says. “We’re going to try something new. 

He attaches small steel circles around Stiles’ ankles, right about the paws, so tight that they don’t slide up and down at all. He attaches two slightly larger but equally tight circles at the very top of Stiles’ thighs, right where his legs meet his body. There’s a place for chain to be attached on each circle and Derek hooks up a small length to the top and bottom, so a chain leash runs from each foot to thigh. Stiles tests it and finds that he can now sit much easier, but the chain isn’t long enough for him to stand. It’ll keep him on all fours but give him much more mobility. 

And, he notes sourly, it’ll make much more noise when he tries to move. _Well played, Derek._

“Good girl,” Derek says, seeming pleased with the new arrangement. He pats Stiles’ ass and Stiles jumps a little as the plug nudges just a bit deeper inside of him. 

Later that day it’s time for Stiles to “graduate” up a plug size. Derek takes him out to the garage while Rocky naps inside, apparently deciding they don’t need Rocky’s “help” this time. “Okay, sweet girl,” he says gently as he gets out the new plug. “This is a very big one, but I know you can take it.” 

Stiles gulps at the size of it. 

“Let’s get you relaxed.” Derek sits on the ground and starts to run his nail gently over Stiles’ stomach all the way to his neck, stimulating his sensitive nipples. He does this every time he puts in a new plug, knowing Stiles is much more cooperative when he’s aroused. Stiles sighs with pleasure and leans into the touches. He feels his belly dip and his legs spread open, ass rising in a way it couldn’t with the old brace. He’s not sure why the pose feels so good, but it does, so he pushes his ass up as high as possible. 

Derek inhales sharply. “Good girl, Lady. That’s exactly the right position. Look at you, pup, I can’t believe how ready you are.” 

Stiles whines. His ass, free of a plug, feels weirdly empty…empty and _hungry_. He pushes it higher into the air, not sure what he wants but knowing he needs _something_. For once it’s a relief to feel the head of the plug as Derek starts to push it in. 

“God,” Derek mutters. His voice sounds a little different. Huskier. “Look how eager your little pussy is for it. I knew it wouldn’t take long to train you. You’re a born bitch, sweet girl.” He keeps pushing and Stiles feels his hole clenching and fluttering, trying to hold on. The plug isn’t just wide but long, too, and when it slips all the way inside Stiles can feel it against his prostate. He moans, bound dick trying hard to rise. 

“Beautiful,” Derek praises, voice still husky. “This is just how you’ll look when it’s time for your claiming.” Stiles can hear the teeth of Derek’s zipper as his fly is pulled down and feels a moment’s thrill, remembering what Deaton had said about Derek claiming him first. He’s not sure if he’s horrified or aroused at the idea, but his body chooses aroused and his ass pushes higher into the air. 

He can hear Derek breathing heavily and the sound of him jerking himself off. Stiles relaxes the pose, undeniably disappointed, and looks up at Derek. His wide, uncut cock is being worked furiously by his fingers. He squeezes the head of it and Stiles’ breath catches. He can’t look away. 

When Derek comes he doesn’t grab a tissue, just covers the head with his hand. He takes a long moment to recover, then holds out his hand to Stiles. “Clean me up,” he orders, voice still a little breathless. 

Hesitantly, Stiles starts to lick. There’s a lot of it, but he surprisingly isn’t disgusted. Derek tastes good. Stiles sucks at his fingers to make sure he gets it all, licking and licking until not a trace remains. Derek starts to pet Stiles’ head gently. “You like that, pretty girl?” he murmurs. 

Stiles whimpers, embarrassed by his own enthusiasm. Derek kisses his brow and leads him back into the house. For the rest of the day he’s exceptionally gentle with Stiles, petting him and letting him sleep at the foot of the bed again, and Stiles doesn’t resist a single touch. 

X 

It finally happens two days later, after Derek has to push Rocky out of the way so he’ll stop licking Stiles’ ass and Derek can put the new plug in. Rocky growls loudly at Derek and Derek freezes, nails digging so tightly into the flesh of Stiles’ ass that he wriggles uncomfortably. 

Stiles is pretty sure there’s some kind of silent power struggle going on between Derek and Rocky right now, and after a long minute Rocky growls again. “That’s how you want it?” Derek says quietly, and in an instant he’s up and has Rocky by the collar. He pulls the dog over to the crate and orders him inside, showing his teeth when Rocky refuses to move. Rocky barks at him as Derek pushes him inside and locks the door and Stiles trembles, afraid of the sudden aggression. 

“Lady,” Derek croons, voice suddenly gentle and sweet as he pats his thigh. “Here, girl.” 

Stiles hesitantly pads across the room to Derek. “Good girl!” Derek praises, stroking Stiles from the crown of his head all the way to his ass. “Now, Lady, you’re very nearly a perfect bitch, aren’t you?” Stiles blushes and Derek apparently takes that as a _yes_. “You’re going to be Rocky’s bitch, servicing him whenever he wants you. But a proper bitch knows how to satisfy everyone in the pack, even the Alpha.” Derek smirks. “ _Especially_ the Alpha. And, so there’s no confusion about that…” he throws a pointed look to Rocky. “That would be me. Show me that pretty new pose you learned the other day, sweet girl.” 

Stiles blushes again, but he’s already feeling a little worked up from Rocky’s tongue and the gentle tugs Derek had given his nipples minutes before. And there’s a steel in Derek’s voice, something underneath that tells him to obey. He dips his belly towards the floor, ass up high. Rocky whines plaintively. 

“That’s it, pup. Just perfect.” Derek steps out of his pants, holding his cock. It’s a little flaccid now, but Stiles can see it starting to fatten, thickening up to that incredible size he’d seen two days ago. Derek pushes himself close to Stiles’ face. “Show me how puppies kiss.” 

Stiles hesitantly stretches out his tongue and starts to lick Derek’s cock, laving up and down in wet strokes. His cheeks are flaming with embarrassment and an undeniable, unstoppable lust. When a bead of precome forms at the head Stiles laps at it almost frantically, wanting more. Rocky is whining, and when Stiles glances at him he sees the dog’s cock has emerged from its sheath again. 

“You have a very talented mouth, Lady,” Derek murmurs. “Someday Rocky will get to enjoy it. But right now it’s all mine.” He grips Stiles by the collar, holding his head in place, and plunges into Stiles’ mouth. He doesn’t waste any time in stuffing his throat, moving up and down only marginally. It takes Stiles a moment to learn how to breathe around it. 

Just when he’s getting the hang of the rhythm and is preparing the swallow the load he’s sure is coming, Derek pulls out. Stiles hears himself whine almost as plaintively as Rocky and Derek smiles, brushing his cheek. “I know, sweet girl. You like the taste, don’t you? But right now we need to do something else. Put that tail high in the air for me.” 

Stiles does immediately, unable to think about anything other than how to satisfy the crazy churning in his stomach, the soft pain in his bound dick. Derek takes his time, stroking Stiles as he lazily walks behind him. Stiles can feel his fingers pressing at his hole and he pushes against them, wanting more. 

“You wanted me to pay for this when we first met,” Derek murmurs. “Do you remember that?” 

Stiles freezes. Derek never talks about what happened _before_. 

“Smart girl, knowing you had something exceptionally fine to offer. But I don’t have to pay now, do I? Everything here is _mine_.” He pitches his voice up at the end of the sentence and Rocky whines, clearly recognizing the word. “I can enjoy this whenever I want, that’s my privilege as your owner. Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” Stiles can feel the head of his cock lined up against Stiles’ well-stretched, desperate hole. “Answer me properly and I’ll give you your reward.” 

Stiles barks loudly, _desperately_ , making every noise he can think of that might satisfy Derek. Derek slams into him in one long thrust, holding him still so he won’t collapse onto his stomach at the sheer force of it. Derek fucks in and out of him quickly. Stiles hears a sound escape him like a growl, and when he twists his head around he sees that Derek’s face is bristling. He’s _shifting,_ and the thought is oddly thrilling. 

Derek grunts as he comes, flooding Stiles’ hole at just the right angle. Stiles isn’t even hard with the bindings in the way, but as Derek finishes inside of him he feels something deep in his belly give way, pleasure short-circuiting his brain in a way that feels both familiar and foreign. His limbs go completely boneless and Derek has to hold him up to keep him from collapsing 

Rocky has given up whimpering and lies in the cage with his head on his paws, looking sulky. Derek gives Stiles’ ass a squeeze and then walks back around to face him, now-limp cock in hand. “Clean me up,” he orders again, breathlessly. 

Stiles licks his cock clean without a second thought. Derek spends a long moment caressing him, kissing his forehead and telling him what a good, perfect girl he is as Stiles stares up at him with his mouth hanging open. Derek smiles at him and goes to let Rocky out of the crate. The dog slides out with his head down, looking chastened. Derek pets him, too. “There, boy,” he says, not unkindly. “No more growling at me. She’s mine, too.” 

Rocky barks obediently. Derek looks down at the dog’s dick, still hard out of its sheath, and snaps his fingers at Stiles. “Here, girl.” 

Stiles practically has to slide on his belly, he’s so exhausted, but he doesn’t hesitate. It’s like some autonomous part of his brain has turned off and all he can do is obey Derek’s every order. 

“You were such a good pup, pleasing your master like that. But you have a duty to him too, sweet girl.” Derek jerks his head at Rocky’s cock. “Use your mouth on him.” 

Even though he wants to obey Stiles feels his nose wrinkle. Rocky is a _dog_. He can’t do that to a dog… 

“Go on, Lady. I want to see how well I trained you.” Derek strokes him, slipping two fingers under his collar to tug him forward a few steps. Rocky’s legs are spread so Stiles can have full access to his dick and Stiles takes a deep breath before leaning in, pressing his nose against the dog’s furry underbelly. He starts to lick. Rocky doesn’t taste nearly as good as Derek, but Derek starts praising him immediately, and that’s enough to spur Stiles on. The dog whines, pushing himself into Stiles’ mouth. Derek starts to fondle Stiles’ dick, sending conflicting feelings of disgust and arousal through his body. 

When Rocky stiffens Derek pulls Stiles away, maybe afraid the dog will try to knot his mouth. “That was so good, puppy,” he praises. “I’m so proud of you. Such a beautiful, perfect pet, aren’t you?” 

Stiles’ breath comes in loud, short pants as Derek pets him and ruffles his hair. Rocky starts to lick his face, tongue slipping into his open mouth, and Stiles doesn’t pull away. His mouth hangs open, head tilted up. Just like a puppy. Just like a _good_ puppy. For once the thought doesn’t fill him with horror. He even preens a bit when Derek puts the plug back in, praising the way his pretty little pussy opens up for it. 

X 

For the rest of the week Stiles hopes against hope that Derek will fuck him again. Whenever his plug is taken out he pushes against Derek’s touch, whining a little with his ass high in the air, glancing at Rocky to see if he’s going to get aggressive again and make Derek put another claim on Stiles. A part of him knows how ridiculous that is, trying to make a _dog_ jealous, but he can’t help it. 

Maybe, if he gets Derek to use him again, he can convince Derek to keep him for himself. He could be happy as Derek’s bitch, he thinks. Hell, maybe he can convince Derek over the months or years to let him act more and more human. 

When the next doctor’s visit rolls around Rocky doesn’t get to come. He’s not happy about it— he chases the car all the way down the driveway, howling plaintively, which makes Derek snort with fond amusement. Stiles feels a little frisson of excitement in his stomach, though it’s oddly lonely in the backseat by himself. He remembers the first time he rode long back here, watching the city and, though he didn’t know it at the time, his old life, fade away. It feels like it was a million years ago. 

The office is almost empty today, which is good; Stiles doesn’t want any dogs fighting over him without Rocky here to growl them off. He doesn’t struggle when he’s strapped down to the table. The desire to make Derek _proud_ of him has grown stronger and stronger in the past week. He lives for praise, for treats from Derek’s hand. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t care. 

“She seems unusually cooperative today,” Deaton murmurs to Derek as he pulls on his gloves. 

“She’s been so well-behaved lately. She’s such a good girl, aren’t you, Lady?” 

Stiles gives Derek an opened-mouthed grin. Derek grins back and kisses his forehead. “You put a claim on her, didn’t you?” Deaton says as he walks behind Stiles and pushes his ass cheeks apart. 

“Rocky overstepped his place in the pack. You were right, I think it was good for everyone.” 

Deaton’s fingers press inside Stiles and he cooperates as best he can, spreading his legs and squirming with pleasure when Derek rewards him with a pat on the head. “I’m glad it worked out. She’s very well-stretched. Put on gloves and lets get started.” 

“Oh, I don’t need gloves with my own puppy.” Derek joins Deaton and Stiles feels Derek start to finger him open. Usually Derek can get three fingers inside him before the plug. There’s still pain, but much less than there used to be, and the pleasure is usually overriding. 

“Good,” Deaton murmurs. “Keep going. Start scissoring your fingers. Don’t be afraid to really thrust with them, that’s how Rocky will do it.” 

Derek’s fingers move quickly, torturously. Stiles’ eyes roll back into his head at how good it feels. The frustration of not being able to get an erection is always there, but he’s learning more and more how to feel good without that. 

“Add the fourth finger,” Deaton says, and Stiles is nervous at the thought of that, but he feels himself open up for it eagerly. Every part of his brain but the part that processes pleasure shuts down completely. “Beautiful, Derek. Look at that. You really do have a blue-ribbon pet here. Do you think she’s ready for the thumb?” 

Stiles _arfs_ before Derek can answer, making both men laugh. Derek tucks in his thumb and slowly clenches his hand into a fist. Stiles feels like he’s being split open but he tries to rock back on the fist as best he can with the straps holding him down. Derek moves his fist inside Stiles, reaching with his other hand to tug at Stiles’ nipples. Stiles closes his eyes and gives himself over to waves of pleasure. 

“Very good,” Deaton says, and the fist withdraws. Stiles wants to whine at the loss of it, and he’s slightly sated when Derek carefully replaces the plug he’d been wearing. “You keep that up for a week and Rocky won’t have any trouble knotting her. Anything else I can do for you today?” 

“Yeah,” Derek says. “There’s one more thing today.” 

Stiles feels a sudden thrill of foreboding, as if he knows exactly what Derek is going to say. The warm feelings towards Derek and almost contented way he had been feeling in general disappears in a flash. 

“I’m ready to have her fixed,” Derek says casually, and every cell in Stiles’ body screams in horror. 

“I thought you might. Let me take a look here.” Deaton unwraps the bindings around Stiles’ penis and balls, revealing a very shriveled-looking dick. “Your best bet is the standard neuter— remove the testicles entirely and dock the penis to the size you want. Length is your call as her owner, but as a reminder the AWPC doesn’t allow them in pet shows if they have anything longer than an inch. She’ll need a few days to recover but she should be ready for her first breeding by the end of the week.” 

Stiles thrashes against the straps on the table and Derek strokes his hair. “She’s all excited now.” 

“We’ll sedate her, of course. Easy, Lady.” Deaton comes over with the needle and no matter how much Stiles struggles he can’t stop it from puncturing his skin. “There you go,” Deaton murmurs. “Good girl.” 

Stiles’ struggles slow and darkness dances at the edges of his vision. He watches through heavily-lidded eyes as Deaton bustles around a cabinet pulling out supplies, and then he fades away completely. 

X 

Derek is very happy with how Lady’s neutering goes. Deaton lets him stay in the room so he can pet the pup, comforting her on the off chance the anesthesia hasn’t put her under entirely. Deaton starts with the testicles, taping the penis to the pup’s stomach so it’s out of the way for now. Derek watches as Deaton makes the first incision through the middle of that ugly sac, easily cutting through the tissue. There’s an undeniable feeling of satisfaction with each snip. 

It doesn’t take long before both testicles are gone. Derek breathes a sigh of relief as Deaton sews up the incision, removing any trace of the ugliness which had been so unsightly on a pretty pup like Lady. “Show me how small you want it now,” Deaton says after bandaging up the sutures, nodding his head at the penis. 

Derek considers it, then holds his finger about a half-inch from the base. She needs something there to piss with, and he’s been entertaining thoughts of decorating her little clit with gemstone sounds. Deaton begins, brow furrowed with concentration. “This will take much longer than the testes,” he warns. “Keep petting her in case she wakes up, we don’t want her panicking.” 

It does take a while, and Deaton is silent as he concentrates, but Derek doesn’t mind. Lady sleeps soundly all through the surgery. Deaton has to use a tube to keep her urethra open and tells Derek to monitor her over the next few days to make sure there’s no problems with urination. “She shouldn’t have to life her leg anymore. Sometimes it’s hard for them to adjust to that.” 

When he’s finished she has a beautiful little nub. Derek can’t wait until all the bandages are out of the way and she can show off her new clit without any wrinkled balls in the way. “There you go,” Deaton says as he steps back from the table. “She’s a proper Lady now. You can keep fisting her, but don’t let Rocky have her until the bandages are off. He might be a handful, but it’s imperative that she be allowed to heal.” Deaton holds up the blue bin with the refuse of the surgery. “I know some owners keep this as a souvenir. Do you want it?” 

Derek wrinkles his nose. “Of course not. Incinerate it.” 

Deaton chuckles and dumps it into a medical waste bin. “Now, the good behavior you’ve been noticing might be gone, so coddle her over the next few days and she’ll come around. You’ve already forged a nice bond with her, but nothing will compare to the bond after she’s been knotted. She’ll be just as devoted to you as any pup. So be sure you’re prepared to keep her after that. If you’re having any doubts about owning her now I can put her up for adoption, she’d go in a heartbeat. Once she’s bonded to you it will be hard to get her to obey any other master, so it isn’t a good idea to just give her to someone else if you don’t want her anymore.” 

Derek scoffs. “That won’t happen.” 

“Just my little spiel. I have a client in another room so you can wait here. She’ll come around soon.” 

Lady is a handful when she wakes up, struggling and howling even as Derek pets her soothingly. He can hear her snuffling in the backseat the whole ride home and when he opens the backseat she turns her head pointedly and refuses to look at him. “Now, now, Lady,” he says, amused. “What did a pretty bitch like you need nuts for, hm?” He pulls her into the house and over to Rocky, who sniffs the air, clearly scenting something new under the antiseptic. 

“That’s right, boy. She’s a real bitch now. Give her a kiss.” 

Rocky eagerly laps at Lady’s mouth. She tries to twist her head away and Derek sighs, fed up with her behavior. “ _No_ , Lady.” He grabs her by the jaw and presses downwards, forcing her mouth to open. “This is how you respond when your stud kisses you. Be a good girl, kiss him back.” 

She refuses, but Rocky doesn’t seem to mind as he licks into her mouth. Derek can see his cock starting to emerge from its sheath and he reluctantly puts an end to the kissing. “You get to nap on Master’s bed now, Lady, since you had such a big day.” 

He helps her, since she can’t jump up herself. He even gets a blanket to put over her. Then he sits with her on the bed, stroking her until he feels her starting to relax into his touch. “You’re such a lovely girl now, Lady,” he murmurs. “Think how jealous people will be when they see my beautiful pup. You want to be good for me, don’t you, Lady?” He moves his hand to scratch at her favorite spot. “Of course you do, my good girl. Then you’ll get treats and belly rubs and a warm place to nap for the rest of your life.” He kisses her softly and turns off the light, being sure to shut the door tightly so Lady doesn’t get any ideas about running out. 

She’ll come around, he knows. Now that she’s been snipped there’s only one more step before she’s a full-fledged bitch, and he’s very much looking forward to that.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles knows now that he can never go back to his old life. Even if he somehow escaped, how could he ever explain to someone how he’s been “fixed” to please his “owner?” 

When he first wakes up after the surgery he’s a little disoriented and can’t remember what happened. Derek is there stroking his hair. “All finished, puppy,” he murmurs. “You’re absolutely perfect now.” 

Stiles panics and tries to struggle, wanting to look between his legs. All he can see are bandages, but he knows he can _feel_ something different. He tries to scream, to curse out Derek, but nothing but howling emerges. 

Deaton comes into the room to check on him, ignoring the sounds he’s making. “You can go ahead and take her home. Like I said, just monitor her for a few days, but there are rarely complications.” 

“Thanks, Deaton.” Derek attaches the leash to Stiles’ collar. “Come on, Lady. Let’s go show Rocky.” 

Derek practically has to drag him all the way to the car. Stiles cries the whole way home but Derek just ignores it, not looking the least bit apologetic when they pull up to the house and Derek comes to get him. Inside the house Rocky is excited, but luckily Derek only makes Stiles endure his “kisses” for a few minutes before pulling him away. 

Stiles convalesces on Derek’s bed for days, being fed treats and kibble and painkillers from Derek’s hand, only having to leave when Derek takes him outside to go to the bathroom. That’s the only time he can really look at what Deaton did—there are still bandages over his testicles, so he can’t see if there’s anything there, but he can see the tiny little nub—practically a bump—that’s all that’s left of his penis. 

The first time he sees it he starts sniffling again and Derek pets him, making nonsense little soothing noises. “Don’t be upset, pretty girl. This is exactly how you’re supposed to be. Now Rocky can finally claim you, and you can go to pet shows where everyone can see what a beautiful girl you are. I’ll teach you how to feel good with your little clit, don’t you worry.” He replaces the bandages and leads Stiles back inside. 

Surprisingly, it’s the dumb dog who gives Stiles the most comfort. As Stiles lies curled up at the foot of Derek’s bed Rocky will often pad in and jump up with him, curling around him and nuzzling him for hours at a time. He’s warm and soft, like a giant heated blanket, and soon Stiles realizes he can’t sleep without Rocky there. He whines at the foot of the bed until Derek sighs and goes to let Rocky in, and after that the dog sleeps there with him every night. 

The only thing Rocky isn’t present for is the fisting. Derek takes Stiles out to the garage every afternoon and does it just like he did in Deaton’s office, a finger at a time until he can easily fuck Stiles with his fist. It feels really, _really_ weird. It’s like signals are being sent to Stiles’ brain that this is supposed to feel good, but there’s nothing there anymore to actually _be_ aroused. He whines and squirms while Derek takes his time, lazily twisting and moving his fist inside of him. 

“This is much easier now that there’s nothing in my way,” Derek says with satisfaction. “I can’t wait to see how you look once the bandages are off.” 

On the third day he starts to play with Stiles’ nipples, which feel more sensitive and engorged than ever. Stiles feels a swirling, confusing mixture of pleasure, pain, and fear in his stomach. “That’s it,” Derek murmurs. “You like this, don’t you, puppy?” He works them in his fingers until they’re hard and stiff, all while still fucking Stiles with his fist. After that it becomes part of the routine, and Stiles swears it feels a little bit better each day, as if his body is adjusting to this new way of feeling pleasure. 

Almost a week after the surgery Derek calls Rocky out into the garage. He still has his fist inside of Stiles and has just finished rolling Stiles’ nipples between his fingers until they’re so sore Stiles can hardly stand it, but today Rocky doesn’t seem to be jealous. He stands at attention in front of Stiles with his ears cocked, practically quivering with anticipation. 

“Your girl needs to feel good,” Derek tell him, giving Stiles’ nipple one last squeeze. “Let’s work together today, okay, boy?” 

He takes his fingers away and Rocky leans in, stretching out his tongue to lap at Stiles’ nipples. Stiles moans, feeling his legs almost give out. After Derek’s torturous fingers the warm, wet, slightly rough feel of the dog’s tongue is amazing. Almost unconsciously he feels himself starting to buck back onto Derek’s fist. 

“That’s it, Lady. I told you that you would learn to feel good like this.” Derek slowly withdraws his fist, then whistles Rocky over. Rocky abandons Stiles’ front and eagerly starts to lick his now-gaping hole. Stiles hears himself making soft, breathy noises as the pressure in his stomach intensifies. 

“That’s enough,” Derek murmurs, and Rocky immediately stops. Stiles finally collapses onto his stomach, heart racing. He can’t _believe_ how good that felt. Derek scratches behind his ears fondly. “That was nice, wasn’t it, Lady? Once your bandages come off he won’t have to stop. You’ll come with your pretty new clit just like a good girl.” He kisses Stiles’ head and leads him back inside for a few more hours of napping and cuddling with Rocky on the bed. 

It takes a week before Derek allows Stiles to leave the house for anything more than bathroom and a quick walk. When he opens the car door and helps Stiles inside Stiles is nervous that they might be going back to the vet, but he’s heartened by the fact that Rocky is along. As they drive Derek rolls down the windows and both Rocky and Stiles lean into the wind. Stiles feels himself smiling a huge blown-out smile as the wind rushes past him. 

Instead of taking the usual route to the vet’s, Derek drives a long, long time, down some unfamiliar roads and finally stops at some kind of megastore— _PetWorld_ , it says on the marquee. Stiles can see other cars in the lots, with werewolves leading dogs and humans on leashes into the store. 

Derek clips the leash onto Stiles’ collar and tugs him out of the car, coaxing him when he doesn’t want to come. “Now that you’re a real bitch we need to buy you pretty things,” he coos. “Come on out. If it’s too hard we’ll go home.” 

Rocky nudges at Stiles to help him out of the car and together they start towards the front door. The carts are oversize and Derek lifts Stiles inside, maybe thinking he’ll try to run if he’s forced to walk. “This is a very good place,” he tells Stiles. “This is a whole town where only werewolves live. We don’t have to worry about any humans spoiling our fun.” 

There are supplies for all kinds of pets here, but of course Derek heads straight for the aisle marked “Human Care.” There are oversize dog beds, reinforced leashes, training collars…Stiles’ eyes widen, as he wonders who in the hell produces all this stuff. 

There are also toys, which seems to excite Derek—he puts armfuls into the cart, smiling indulgently at Stiles as if he’s being spoiled. Stiles glances down with mild interest. There are some little balls, and cone-shaped things he’s supposed to chew on to extract a treat, and some kind of laser like might be used to amuse a cat. Stiles rolls his eyes. Nothing good. 

Then Derek gets to a section with butt plugs—butt plugs with long, synthetic tails. Derek smiles at him again. “It’s time for you to have a tail like a proper puppy, Lady. Won’t you be a pretty girl then?” 

Stiles blushes all the way to his roots. Derek starts to browse through them, holding one up every so often to see if it matches Stiles’ hair. Some of the tails are short and stubby, and some are so long he could wrap it around himself. Derek is finally satisfied with one of the long ones, a dark color like Stiles’ hair with strands of gold. Derek frowns, though, when he looks at the width of the plug. He leans out of the aisle and flags down a sales associate. “Excuse me. Do you have this in an extra-large? I need her to be kept very well-stretched during the day.” 

The man looks at Stiles with interest. “Oh, is she a breeding bitch? Let me go into the back.” 

As they wait Derek searches through some new collars, placing a bright pink and glittery one into the cart. The associate reappears with the tail. “Found it! By the way, I’m not sure if you’ve looked through our supplements yet, but we have several that can stimulate a new bitch’s sex drive. I’m guessing from the bandages you’ve just had her fixed? A lot of owners like to use a little something to get the pups more interested in the proceedings.” 

Derek looks smug. “Oh, she’s plenty interested on her own. The neediest little bitch you could want. Aren’t you, Lady?” 

Stiles blushes again but Rocky lets out a proud bark, making the associate and Derek laugh. Derek continues to push the cart through the aisle. “Here we go,” he says after another minute. 

It takes Stiles a moment to figure out what they’re looking at. The wall is covered with small, thin metal rods, some with little bumps down the length and some with a circle or jewel on the end. After looking at them for a moment Stiles feels his stomach drop. It’s like a plug, but for his dick. What’s left of it, anyway. That little rod is supposed to be inserted in _there_. 

He whimpers and Derek gives him a stern look. “Pretty girls need pretty jewelry, Lady. Behave when we’re in public or you’ll spend the rest of the day in your crate.” He selects several, each with a huge jewel at the end of it. That, thankfully, seems to be the end of his shopping list. He grabs a few toys for Rocky on the way out and heads towards the checkout. 

The woman working there looks Stiles up and down, making him want to curl up into a ball. “Beautiful pups,” she says. 

“Thank you.” Derek pets Stiles proudly. “This is her first time in a store. Isn’t she doing perfectly?” 

“That’s great! Here you go, puppy.” The woman holds a treat out to Stiles from a little bowl at the cash register. Stiles’ face is so red he thinks he might go up in flames, but after a fearful glance at Derek he takes the treat from her with his teeth. It’s something with nuts, he thinks. Not as good as the ones Derek gives him. 

He feels so tired out from the trip that he sleeps almost the whole way home. He’s still sleepy when they get there, but Derek makes him come into the living room and hold still so he can put in the new plug. The tail is so long that even when he’s on all four it brushes his ankles. “Beautiful,” Derek says. “This will be your show tail for whenever you go out. Around the house we don’t have to be so formal.” He leaves it in, though, obviously enjoying the sight of Stiles wearing it. 

Derek lets him nap on the bed for the rest of the day, only waking him up for another painkiller. “Last one,” he says cajolingly when Stiles wrinkles his nose. “You’re almost all healed, pup.” 

Stiles swallows the pill. Derek keeps his hand on Stiles’ cheek and Stiles nuzzles into it almost unconsciously before going back to sleep. When he wakes up in the morning he sees that Rocky has joined him and is draped around him as always, nose pressed into the crook of Stiles’ neck. Stiles yawns and the dog cracks his eyes open, giving Stiles a sloppy lick to say good morning. 

“You should always kiss him back when he kisses you,” a soft voice says. Stiles looks to see Derek sitting up in bed, regarding him seriously. “If you can be a good girl and do that I’ll let you eat from your bowl again for breakfast.” 

Stiles isn’t sure how much of a reward that is, he kind of likes when Derek feeds him by hand. Still, he knows that if he doesn’t obey he might be punished. After the softness of the bed he couldn’t bear being locked in the crate again. He looks nervously at Rocky, not sure what to do. 

“Give him a kiss on the lips so he knows you’re interested, Lady.” 

Rocky sits there gazing at Stiles as if daring him to do it. Stiles hesitates, then leans in and licks across Rocky’s mouth. He feels the dog’s mouth open and the points of his canines for a split second before pulling away. 

“That was so good, girl! Now open your mouth, he wants to give you real kisses.” 

Once again it’s like Stiles is on autopilot, programmed to obey every order. He opens his mouth and the dog starts to lick, using his paws to gently pin Stiles to the bed. He’s practically cramming his long tongue down Stiles’ throat and Stiles feels like he might choke. 

Derek lets it go on for a long, long time before he pulls Rocky away. “Very good, pups,” he murmurs, reaching out caress Stiles’ face. “I’m so proud of you.” 

After breakfast the plug with the tail finally comes out. Stiles and Rocky do their business outside and go for a walk—it’s a nice day, but there’s a little bite to the air as winter starts to set in. Stiles wonders if Derek will give him anything to wear when it’s really cold and snowy, or if he’ll just have to adapt. 

Derek plays with them in the yard for a while, then Stiles naps in the living room until it’s time for lunch. When his bowl is empty he starts to crawl from the kitchen, thinking he’ll nap a little more, but Derek calls him over to the table where he’s eating a BLT. “Stay,” he says when Stiles stops at his side, and Stiles does. “Good girl.” He takes a piece of bacon from the sandwich and holds it down to him. Stiles eats it eagerly, and, when Derek leaves his hand there, licks Derek’s fingers clean. 

When Derek’s finished he walks over to the bathroom door and pats his thigh so Stiles will follow. “On your side,” he orders, and Stiles curls up, feeling a little unsure. They’ve never done this before. Derek pats his belly soothingly, then removes his plug. “We need to get you clean.” 

He carefully inserts a plug attached to a long, thin tube into Stiles’ hole and turns on the tub faucet to fill up a plastic bucket. Once the bucket is full he adds a few drops of something into it, then puts in the other end of the tube attached to the plug. Moments later Stiles feels the weirdest sensation ever as the water rushes into him. He whines and automatically tries to move away. 

“No, Lady. You need to take all of it and then I’ll flush you out.” Derek keeps pumping it into him slowly, anchoring one arm around his slowly swelling belly to hold him into place. “It feels good, doesn’t it? It has a special tonic added to simulate the pheromones of a bitch in heat, just to make sure Rocky remembers what you’re here for. Be _you_ don’t need to be reminded, do you, pretty girl?” 

He pumps in the last of it, then replaces the plug with another normal one. “Let that sit in there a bit,” he murmurs, patting Stiles’ stomach. His swollen belly sounds almost hollow when it’s patted like that, loud reassuring thumps just like the sound of patting a dog’s belly. Stiles is uncomfortable with the water inside him but he nuzzles a little closer to Derek, pushing against Derek’s hand so he’ll scratch Stiles’ head. 

After a few minutes Derek lifts Stiles into the tub and removes the plug. Stiles pushes all the water out, eyes watering as Derek praises him and rubs his stomach. The plug isn’t replaced when he’s finished; instead Derek leads him out to the garage. 

Stiles knows by now that the garage means training so he stands in position, legs spread so Derek can fist him. Instead Derek carefully removes all the bandages around his crotch. “All healed,” he says. “Let’s take care of these stiches.” 

At first Stiles doesn’t know what he means, but then he feels a tugging sensation in his crotch and realizes Derek is using a tiny pair of scissors to clip and pull the stitches out. He freezes, afraid that Derek will cut his skin, but he goes very carefully and makes a satisfied sound a few minutes later. “Finished. You’re so beautiful, Lady. Would you like to see?” 

_No,_ Stiles thinks, trembling a little as Derek grabs a hand mirror and arranges it between Stiles’ legs. “Look.” 

Stiles looks. It’s like an optical illusion or something—what he’s expecting to see, what he’s always expected to see, just isn’t there. He can see where Derek has just taken out the stiches, the skin a little red and sore-looking. What’s left of his penis looks even tinier without the bandages, a little bump in the emptiness of his crotch. He can’t believe that this is really his body and he lifts his left hand from the ground, wanting to touch it. 

Derek pushes his hand down easily. “Don’t paw at it. Let’s put in your jewels to really show it off, hmm?” 

He grabs the urethral plug with a shiny blue stone and cleans it. “This might feel a little uncomfortable. Hold still for me, girl.” He places two finger’s on Stiles’ penis and Stiles can’t help but jump—it’s so _sensitive_. “Easy,” Derek says under his breath, eyes narrowed in concentration. He starts to screw it in carefully. 

Stiles whines plaintively the whole time. It feels like Derek is jamming thumbtacks into him or something. Derek breathes out in relief when it’s in and leans back, looking satisfied. “Gorgeous, Lady.” He holds the mirror between Stiles’ legs again and Stiles braves a look. The jewel gleams against his pale skin, catching the light when he moves slightly. 

“How’d I get so lucky to find a pretty puppy like you, huh?” Derek coos, ruffling his hair. “You’re going to look so beautiful on show with your tail and your jewels. I’m so proud of you, you’ve been so perfect through all of this.” He kisses Stiles’ forehead and extracts the plug carefully. Once it’s out, he keeps the pad of his thumb over the head of Stiles’ penis, rubbing back and forth carefully. Stiles feels himself trembling as pleasure shoots through his belly. 

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Derek picks up the intensity of the rubs while simultaneously reaching to play with Stiles’ nipples. Stiles’ knees buckle. It shouldn’t feel this good—without sex organs, he shouldn’t be feeling sexual pleasure at all, right? But he can’t help it. He wants _more_ ; he wants _release…_

When Derek stops abruptly Stiles hears himself making high-pitched whines and whimpers of protest. “Okay, Lady,” Derek says softly, his voice more serious than Stiles has ever heard it. “It’s your choice. We either stop right now…or I call Rocky in to finish this. What do you want?” 

Stiles blinks at him, trying to comprehend. A part of his brain is whispering that this is wrong, all of it, that he should be backing away and trying to find an escape right now. But the much stronger part of him is telling him that what he _needs_ is more pleasure and pressure. To learn how to feel good just like a proper bitch. 

He raises his ass, dips his belly, and allows himself to let out a breathy whine. “Good girl,” Derek says, and stands. Stiles hears him open the door and whistle for Rocky. The sound of the dog’s nails against the floor as he races for them only makes Stiles feel more eager and he pushes out his ass even further. 

“She’s all yours, boy,” Derek says, and seconds later Stiles can feel Rocky licking his ass sloppily. He seems more excited than he’s ever been before—he stops for a moment when he realizes the bandages are off, then happily starts licking the place where Stiles’ testicles used to be. Derek laughs. “He wants to give your clit kisses, Lady. Show him your belly.” 

Stiles collapses on his back, grateful for the excuse to stop standing. He spreads out his arms and legs as best he can and Rocky goes wild with the full access to his front. He laps over Stiles’ nipples, his mouth, his—his _clit_. The dog’s dick is hard and leaking and Stiles’ eyes follow it, knowing _that’s_ what’s going to make him feel good. 

“Back on your knees,” Derek orders, and Stiles obeys. Rocky jumps on him, nails scrabbling into the flesh of Stiles’ ass as he tries to find purchase. His dicks jabs against Stiles’ thighs and the flesh of his ass, but then Stiles feels it against his hole. He moans and pushes against it, needing to be full the way he’s full when Derek fists him. 

The dog pounds into him mercilessly, short little thrusts that rock his whole body. He swears he can feel his clit leaking. Derek help hold him still, making eye contact with him. “It’s his decision to knot your or not,” he tells Stiles softly. “Not every bitch is lucky enough to be knotted. He has to decide if you’re worthy of that. I think he will. Once he knots you, you’re his forever.” 

Stiles gapes at him, mouth hanging open stupidly as Rocky’s thrusts continue. He can feel the dog’s cock starting to swell and suddenly his teeth sink into the meat of Stiles’ shoulder. With pleasure still swamping him it doesn’t really hurt, and he realizes that Rocky is locking in to better help him fuck into Stiles. 

The dog is going to knot him. Derek's grip on Stiles intensifies to keep him from collapsing as the knot stretches Stiles’ rim. Finally it hits home and Stiles feels the first flood of come, stimulating his prostrate. The pleasure in his stomach reaches its zenith and clear liquid spurts from his clit. He hears a dog panting eagerly and seconds later realizes that it’s him. 

“Good girl,” Derek says again, and Stiles’ tongue lolls out of his mouth. It’s like the knotting has cleared away any thoughts in his head, so Derek’s words echo in the empty space until they’re all he knows. 

X 

Derek watches with pride as Rocky knots Lady. He raises his tail to show what a good stud he is and turns so he’s ass-to-ass with his girl. Lady is whining, spurting her bitch-juices all over the floor. She’ll have to clean that up later, after he teaches her how to clean Rocky’s cock with her tongue. She’ll have a lot of new responsibilities as Rocky’s bitch, but Derek knows she can handle them. 

It takes a half hour before the knot goes down and Rocky slips free. Lady is exhausted but she licks up her mess and cleans her stud’s cock obediently. Derek is sure to praise her effusively, sliding in a plug so Rocky’s come will be inside her all night. 

Rocky is as proud as Derek has ever seen him and he doesn’t leave Lady alone for the rest of the night. When Derek feeds him a treat he grandly presents it to his bitch, who blushes but accepts it. Derek has to smile at his perfect pets, at the knowledge that he gets to own them forever. 

They sleep curled up together and in the morning Rocky is ready to go again. Lady doesn’t complain at all, just spreads her legs obediently and lets herself be mounted. 

She really is the perfect bitch.


	6. Chapter 6

**One Year Later**

Stiles is napping in his favorite spot. The sunlight comes through the window and warms the carpet just right, and except for the bed it’s the softest place in the house. He likes to nap throughout the day because then he has plenty of energy for his stud. 

He can hear Rocky right now playing with some of his toys, not needing his bitch for the moment. Suddenly he hears jingling at the door and he jumps to attention immediately. Rocky barks excitedly and they both race for the door just in time to see it open. Their owner comes in and they both bark and yip, jumping up on him and giving him kisses to say hello. 

Derek laughs and pets them both. “Let me in the door, puppies, I have groceries.” He nudges the door closed and heads towards the kitchen, Stiles and Rocky following close behind. Sometimes he brings home special treats from the grocery store, a rawhide bone for Rocky and an ice cream bar for Stiles. 

There are no treats today, but Stiles doesn’t mind, it’s just nice to have his master home. He butts against Derek’s leg and Derek scratches behind his ear. “Were you a good girl when I was gone, Lady?” 

Stiles proudly lifts his ass into the air so Derek can see how swollen and red his pussy is. Rocky had knotted him an hour ago and Stiles had taken it perfectly, Master would have been so pleased with him. “Good Lady!” Derek praises, kissing his forehead. 

Of course, Stiles is almost _always_ a good girl for his stud, he knows that’s his duty. But Rocky has a big appetite and sometimes Stiles gets tired. Rocky knots him at least twice a day. Most days he wants to knot Stiles in the morning too, but usually Stiles is too tired and sore, so instead he makes his stud happy using his mouth. Rocky doesn’t let him get away with that twice in one day, though, so he has to be knotted after lunch and again before bed. 

Once all the groceries are unpacked Derek needs to get some work done. Stiles turns to his toys as Derek types away at his computer—his favorite toy has his peanut butter treats inside that he has to work out with his teeth and paws. It takes a long time and several times he gets frustrated and growls at it. 

Derek taught him to growl. Stiles is very good at it now. 

“Lady,” Derek calls after a few minutes, patting his thigh. Stiles drops the toy immediately and rushes over. He loves sitting between his master’s legs or by his side with his head against his thigh. Derek likes to pet his girl while he works. Sometimes Stiles purposefully nuzzles against Derek’s cock with his nose to try and make it hard. Derek won’t fuck his pussy, since that belongs to Rocky, but when Stiles is very good he’ll sometimes fuck Stiles’ mouth. 

Today Derek just chuckles and pushes his nose away. “Don’t try to distract me, sweet girl, I’m working.” He kisses Stiles’ brow and moves his hand down to scratch Stiles’ favorite spot. 

Later Derek takes them outside for a walk and some playtime. He throws sticks for them to run after—Rocky is much faster, but he lets Stiles get it sometimes to be nice, or gives the stick to Stiles after he’s found it so Stiles can be the one to run it back to Derek. Derek says he does things like that to be flirty, so Stiles always gives him kisses as a thank-you. 

After a nap and dinner they watch TV in the living room. As always Rocky starts to get bored after a while and noses around Stiles’ pussy. He’s getting excited. Stiles spreads his legs to help his stud; Rocky likes to sit close to Stiles so he can really go to town for as long as he wants. 

Eventually Rocky wants to kiss Stiles’ clit so Stiles rolls over. Rocky loves to lick Stiles’ nice smooth front, where he got fixed. Stiles knows he’s lucky that his master had him neutered so he’d be more attractive to his stud. He doesn’t even miss what he used to have. Well, maybe he does a little, but he would never let it show. 

Rocky mounts him and starts to thrust. Now he almost always hits his mark right on the first try. Stiles sighs happily as he feels his stud’s knot starting to grow. The nighttime knotting is the best one because he can usually fall asleep right there on Rocky’s knot and wake up still stuffed full of him. 

And best of all, his owner is always there watching, so proud of his good girl. There’s no better feeling than that. 

Sure enough he drifts off and doesn’t wake up until Derek is gently shaking him awake. “Time to go to sleep on your doggy bed, Lady.” 

Stiles yawns hugely and struggles to his feet, feeling the deflated knot slide out of him. He gives Derek’s cheek a sloppy kiss, making Derek laugh and ruffle his hair. “You sweet pup. Love you.” 

Stiles feels warm happiness all the way through his body. He can’t even remember now when the first time Derek said he loved Stiles was, but every time he hears it it makes him feel like the best girl in the world. 

He nuzzles Derek to say it back and walks to the doggy bed he shares with Rocky. The dog curls around him so he’s nice and warm and starts to breathe in and out deeply. The rise and fall of his chest is like a pillow and a lullaby all at once and it’s very easy for Stiles to fall asleep. 

Another perfect day with his stud and his owner. 

X 

Stiles sits by the door with his very best posture, trying not to make any unnecessary movements. Derek spent a very long time today making him pretty and he doesn’t want to ruin all that hard work. 

Today is a very special day because he’s going to go to a pet show. Derek told him that pet shows are where bitches like Stiles gets shown off and the very best ones get prizes. Stiles can’t wait to show everyone how good he is for his master. 

The stairs creak and he looks up to see Derek coming down. Stiles barks excitedly at the sight of him. His owner is so handsome! He’s wearing a white shirt with the buttons at the top undone and his glasses. It makes Stiles happy to see how handsome his owner is because it reminds him that Derek could have chosen anyone, any human to be his puppy—after all, who wouldn’t get in the car of someone who looked like him?— and he chose _Stiles._

Derek grins at him and lifts his chin so he can look him over critically. “Perfect,” he proclaims, and Stiles wriggles proudly. His grooming took hours and hours. First Derek gave him a bath, scrubbing him with an exfoliating brush, then washed his hair with special shampoo to make it glossy. Derek carefully applied mascara to his eyelashes to frame his pretty eyes and put in his tail and clit jewels. He’s also had his nipples pierced with little rings, only to be worn when he’s on show. 

Stiles knows he’s a beautiful pup. People are always complimenting Derek when they go out. But today he’s _really_ going to make Derek proud to own him, and he can’t wait. 

Derek clips on his leash. “Rocky,” he calls. “Come give your girl a good-luck kiss.” 

Rocky isn’t going with them today. Dogs like Rocky aren’t meant to be shown off, that’s just for bitches like Stiles. Stiles will miss him, but he’s excited to have time to spend just with Derek. Rocky pads over and gives Stiles kisses until Derek tugs on the leash and takes him outside. 

Because it’s a long ride to the pet show Stiles has toys in the car. He wishes Derek would roll down the window so he could stick his face out, but that might ruin his hair, and besides, they have to drive on some human roads. Stiles doesn’t like being anywhere near real human. Humans would want to take him away from his master and that would be the worst thing in the world. 

After a long, long time they reach their destination. They’re deep in the woods, far away from real humans, but Stiles still feels nervous when Derek opens the door. The lot is full of bitches and their owners. What if they behave better than Stiles? What if Stiles can’t make his owner proud? 

Derek sees his hesitation and smiles reassuringly at him, rubbing a little circle behind Stiles’ ear with his thumb. “You’re the prettiest girl here,” he whispers. “Yes, you are. Deaton says you’re better behaved than any of the other pups he treats, and you’ve only been here for a year. I know you’re going to make me so proud today, my best girl.” He kisses Stiles’ forehead and fusses with a strand of his hair. “Let’s go win some prizes.” 

Stiles barks obediently and crawls out of the car. He’s hyperaware of his every movement, trying not to slouch or look hesitant or tuck his head down like he’s ashamed. He doesn’t even turn his head to look at the other bitches, though he can tell that some of them aren’t very well behaved at all, whimpering and pulling back on their leashes. 

Their owners must not have waited long enough to enter them into competition. Derek waited until Stiles was _perfect_. They’ve been training and training for months to be sure Stiles wouldn’t embarrass his owner. 

Once they’re inside Derek registers Stiles and clips a little number to his collar. They have to wait for a long time—Stiles sits quietly like a good girl while Derek pets him—and then all the pups get to go out and walk around in a circle. When they enter the stage area Stiles is taken aback for a moment, there are so many people watching, but he doesn’t panic like some of the pups do. 

“Excellent,” Derek tells him once the walk around is done and they’re backstage again waiting. He pats his lap and Stiles rests his head there. “Before I adopted you I used to go watch pet shows. I liked watching all those beautiful pups on display. You’re going to inspire those werewolves to go out and adopt pups of their own, isn’t that wonderful?” 

Stiles yips and nuzzles against Derek’s leg, trying to block out the sounds all around him. This is the first time he’s been around this many people since Derek adopted him. 

He wonders how the other pups here got adopted. He was a rescue pup, that means Derek saved him from a bad life and made his life better. Derek said some pups are bought or taken from high-end families, but those adoptions are harder to cover up, so the AWPC tries to encourage werewolves to rescue. Stiles even has a special little pin on his collar to show he was a stray when Derek rescued him. 

Finally it’s their turn to go out. The lights are blinding for a moment and Stiles almost falls back, but Derek tugs the leash sharply and he remembers himself. The announcer is saying his name and announces that he’s a rescue and the crowd is applauding for him, which feels really good. Stiles lifts his tail proudly. 

Derek puts him through his tricks. There are hurdles he has to jump over, but it’s all right, they’ve practiced hurdles in the backyard. They get higher and higher so Stiles really has to stretch his body, and he hears the audience murmuring and clapping in appreciation. He clears the last hurdle and Derek gives him a treat, beaming at him. 

They do commands next, which are easy. _Sit. Speak. Roll over._ The best one is _present_ , where Stiles lifts his ass into the air like he’s helping Rocky mount. Stiles does everything perfectly. 

Then Derek shows him off to the crowd, lifting his paws one by one, having him spread his legs so they can see his jewels, and showing the size of the tail plug he’s wearing, all while telling the story of how he found Stiles on the street and brought him home to be a breeding bitch for Rocky. Stiles knows this can be the hardest part for human pups, because they can get embarrassed and not stand still, but _he_ knows how to behave. 

Finally, Derek tells him to stay and walks to the other end of the stage. A volunteer comes and stands a few feet away from Derek. The volunteer holds out his hand, which has Stiles’ favorite treat in it. 

“Lady,” Derek calls. He pats his thigh. “Here.” 

The volunteer holds the treat out enticingly. “Here, girl.” 

Stiles hesitates. He wants another treat, but Derek is his owner. He’s always supposed to go to his owner. He lopes across the stage and stops at Derek’s feet, looking up at him expectantly. 

Derek grins and ruffles his hair. “Good girl!” he says as the audience cheers. Stiles knows he made the right choice and he nuzzles against Derek’s hand proudly. 

They have to do some more waiting backstage after that. Now Stiles feels a little more comfortable looking around at the other pups. Some are very well-behaved, sitting quietly at their owner’s feet. Others are sniffing at each other or trying to hide behind their owner’s legs or throwing fits and trying to get off the leash. Bad girls. Stiles would _never_ act like that in public. 

When all the pups have performed on stage they’re all called out again to do one more parade around, and then they line up for prizes. Stiles is very nervous, especially when his name isn’t called for the first few awards. 

Then the announcer lifts the biggest trophy, the “Best in Show” award. It’s huge and shiny and Stiles _wants it_. Derek would be so proud to take it home, he knows, to put it on the shelf so everyone can see how well he trained his girl. “The top prize today,” the announcer says. “Best in Show goes to the lovely Lady and her owner, Derek Hale.” 

Stiles yips and jumps in the air with excitement. He did it! Derek accepts the trophy, grinning and ruffling Stiles’ hair. His name has already been engraved into it: L-A-D-Y. Lady, that’s his name. The announcer also pins a new tag to his collar, a gold one announcing that he was the very best pup at this show. Stiles feels happier than he’s ever felt before. 

People come rushing up to them after the show is over, petting Stiles and congratulating Derek. Several of them make offers to buy Stiles from him. They offer lots of money, ridiculous amounts so high Stiles’ eyes widen, but Derek just shakes his head and laughs after each one. “Why would I want to sell such a perfect pup?” he says, caressing Stiles’ face fondly. “You don’t want another owner, do you, Lady?” 

Stiles whines in horror at the thought of leaving his owner and his stud and curls up at Derek’s feet so nobody can try and take him away. 

Once they’re backstage Stiles’ jewels and tail finally come out. Derek lets him do his business in the grass outside, then leads him back over to the car. Stiles can’t take his eyes off the huge trophy he won and he’s happy when Derek puts it in the backseat, so Stiles can curl up with it for the ride. Derek beams at him again and scratches at Stiles’ scalp with both hands so it feels really good. “Who’s a good girl?” he croons. “Who’s a good girl? Who is it? Who is it? Is it you? Are you a good girl? You are!” Stiles barks and kisses Derek all over his face. Derek laughs and closes the door, starting up the car as Stiles rests his head against the trophy’s base, staring at it worshipfully. 

He can’t wait to show Rocky. 

X 

Stiles is pretty sure that his owner has something big planned. He’s been making a lot of phone calls that Rocky and Stiles aren’t allowed to be in the room for, and he’s constantly making Stiles go to the vet’s, even though Stiles usually only has to go once every few months. 

Deaton is behaving funny too; he keeps taking samples of Stiles’ blood and hair and skin and once even the bitch-juice that comes out of his clit when Rocky knots him. Stiles would feel nervous, but there’s too much to feel happy about. Derek has been so loving ever since Stiles won the pet show, favoring Stiles even over Rocky. Stiles gets to sleep on the foot of his bed almost every night and is even allowed to cuddle on the furniture with Derek. It’s starting to get cold out and Derek has promised him a new fur coat, one that’s even heavier and softer than the one he got to wear last year. 

Stiles already knew he was Rocky’s favorite, but it’s nice being Derek’s favorite too. It means he gets spoiled by his stud _and_ his owner, but that’s all right. Derek says pretty girls are meant to be spoiled. 

One day Stiles wakes up at the foot of the bed and watches sleepily as Derek comes into the room wearing workout clothes. Sometimes he goes for an early-morning run. Stiles pouts a little realizing he didn’t get to go along, though he isn’t really surprised; he’s fast but not fast enough to keep up with Derek on a run. 

Derek is all sweaty and he strips off his tight shirt and shorts quickly. Stiles’ gaze goes hungrily to the bulge in his briefs, the cotton a little damp with sweat. Derek slings a towel around his shoulders and reaches out to squeeze the back of Stiles’ neck in greeting. “Morning, Lady.” He lies on the bed to catch his breath and Stiles quickly changes position to sidle between his legs. He noses at the bulge and Derek chuckles at him, spreading his legs a little to make it easier. He smells so good down here, warm and musky. Stiles pants open-mouthed with excitement and growing lust, tongue lolling out. He starts to lick at the bulge, tasting his owner through the fabric of his briefs. 

“You want to give me kisses, pretty girl?” Derek sighs, tilting back his head and spreading his legs even wider. Stiles laps at him until he can feel Derek pulsing, ready to come. This is even better than pleasing his stud with his mouth. Stiles sucks hard through the fabric and feels Derek release, soaking the cotton of his briefs. Stiles practically purrs with pleasure. 

Derek strips the briefs off and Stiles goes to work cleaning him up, licking his cock and balls just like he does Rocky. Derek tosses him the briefs and heads for the shower. Stiles happily sucks the come out of them, finishing just as Derek walks back into the room with a towel around his waist. 

“You’re such a good girl,” Derek says fondly, caressing Stiles as he walks by. Stiles can hear scratching at the door. Rocky wants to be let in. He’s probably woken up hard and wants Stiles to take care of _him_ , too. A bitch’s job is never done. 

Just as Derek crosses to open the door for him his phone rings and he switches course to answer it. “You’re up early,” he says into it. Seconds later a grin splits his face. “You’re sure? When can we do it? Yeah? I can be there in a half hour.” 

He listens for another moment before hanging up. “Up and at ‘em, pup,” he says, swatting Stiles off the bed. “We’re going to the vet again.” 

Stiles whines with annoyance; he’s tired of the vet and it’s too early to go anywhere. “That better not be whining I hear,” Derek says mildly as he pulls on jeans. “That’s no way to act with the owner who just gave you a treat, is it?” 

Whimpering apologetically, Stiles jumps off the bed and follows Derek out when he pushes open the door. Rocky is still there, looking a little disgruntled that he’s been kept waiting. Derek tsks when Rocky tries to kiss Stiles and puts his foot between them to stop him. “We have to get moving. Lady, take care of him like you took care of me once we’re in the car.” 

Stiles barks obediently and they follow him out. Stiles services Rocky with his mouth the whole ride to the vet’s, finishing just as they pull into the lot. Rocky looks pleased that Stiles will be sticky with his come here at the vet’s. He’s _very_ possessive over his bitch. 

Deaton is waiting for them inside. He and Derek lift Stiles onto the table, though they don’t have to use the straps now that Stiles is a good girl. “This is a hundred percent sure, now?” Derek asks Deaton sternly. “I won’t have her put at any risk.” 

“The AWPC came by to examine it and approved it. Can’t get any safer than that. As far as I know the others around the country have all gone beautifully. She’s going to be fine.” 

Derek nods. “Then let’s get it done.” 

“We’ll have to put her under again.” Deaton goes to get a syringe while Stiles gives Derek sad eyes. He doesn’t need to be put under! He’s a good girl now, he can stay awake and hold still! 

Derek just smiles at him and kisses his forehead. “Something wonderful is going to happen to you now,” he whispers. “A whole new part of your life is beginning. Just wait until you wake him.” 

That starts a little bloom of unease in Stiles’ stomach, which is _wrong_ , because he should trust his master in everything. But before he has time to fight it down or let it show the needle is in his arm and he’s drifting off. 

X 

When Stiles wakes up he’s relieved—he doesn’t _feel_ any different, there’s just a soreness in his abdomen. Deaton is talking: “—day or so, but I wouldn’t worry. Rocky will know when she’s ready, he’ll smell it on her. Absolutely use the bench the first time, I can’t guess how forceful he’ll be. Oh, good, she’s awake. Take her home and be sure to spoil her lots over the next few days,” 

“No problem,” Derek says, smiling down at Stiles and stroking his hair gently. He lifts Stiles into his arms and carries him out to the car, which is surprisingly, usually Stiles has to walk. Stiles nuzzles happily into his chest, not sure what just happened in there but totally fine with it if it means cuddles. 

At home Stiles is put on the bed and tucked in with a blanket. He doesn’t feel sick, exactly, maybe just a little hot and itchy from the inside out, and his abdomen is still sore. Derek is always there petting and feeding him, cooing to him in a soft voice as he brings him his water bowl and treats. Rocky is kept away, oddly enough. Stiles misses him and is sure his poor stud is feeling more and more frustrated. 

An indeterminate amount of time later—a few days, maybe?— Derek finally lets Rocky inside, though he keeps a very tight grip on the dog’s collar. Rocky stops short as soon as he enters, then puts his nose to the ground and starts sniffing his way to Stiles. He yips when he reaches Stiles and starts to strain against Derek’s hand. 

“Excellent,” Derek murmurs. He pulls Rocky away, having a very difficult time of it, and nudges him out the door, closing it with Rocky on the other side. He returns to Stiles, ignoring Rocky’s scratches and plaintive whines. “Okay, sweet girl. Do you feel ready to take care of your stud again?” 

Stiles gives him a big open-mouthed grin. He’s _very_ ready. Derek hasn’t even played with his clit over the past few days; Stiles has never gone this long since becoming Rocky’s bitch without feeling good. 

“Good girl. I’ll be right back.” Derek leaves, keeping the door closed tightly so Rocky can’t sneak in. About five minutes later he returns and leads Stiles out to the garage. There’s something new set up there. A padded bench, tilted upwards, with restraints that are snapped open. 

“That’s for you,” Derek says softly, stroking Stiles’ hair. “Rocky is going to be very excited today and he might be more forceful than usual. I don’t want you to get hurt. What do you think? Do you want me to strap you in?” 

Stiles yips a little nervously. Derek lifts him into the bench, closing the restraints tightly around his paws. The bench keeps his legs spread very wide and he can barely even wriggle in in. Once Derek is sure he’s secure he reaches under Stiles’ body and starts to gently play with his nipples, rolling them between his fingers until they’re hard. 

Stiles moans. It feels even better than normal. His stomach feels all quivery and he tries his best to push his ass even further into the air. 

Derek soothes him and starts to rub something into his pussy, a cream that feels nice and cool where it’s applied. Stiles sighs and relaxes into the touch. After a few minutes he can feel something strange, a sort of squelchy feeling like he’s getting wet back there. He whines confusedly. 

“Don’t worry, pretty girl. It’s all normal. I want my beautiful puppy to be very safe and comfortable today.” Derek’s voice is a low murmur. When he finally takes his hand away Stiles feels bereft and he whines again, wanting Rocky. 

Derek walks over to the door and opens it, whistling to call Rocky out. Stiles can hear the dog’s nails as he races for his bitch. He makes funny noises when he gets close, little growls and snarls that sound almost desperate. His nails dig into the flesh of Stiles’ ass as he frantically tries to find purchase. 

“Easy, boy, easy.” Stiles can feel Derek helping guide his stud. “Don’t get too excited. There you go.” Stiles moans as Rocky finds the right spot. It should hurt, since Rocky didn’t lick him like he usually does, but it feels _amazing_. His eyes roll back in his head as the knot starts to grow and he comes mindlessly, going slack in the bench as the waves of pleasure rip through him. 

Rocky makes a sound almost like a purr when his knot is firmly in place. Stiles knows he’s turning, lifting his tail to proudly show off where Stiles’ pussy is stretched wide around his knot. “Good boy,” Derek praises. “Look how well you’ve bred her. So perfect.” His hand pets Stiles’ hair, mixing a lazy contentment into the churn of pleasure Stiles keeps feeling. “And my pretty Lady. Such a good girl. The very best girl.” 

Stiles gives him a big grin as Rocky comes again. 

X 

It takes him a while before he realizes what’s going on. Derek keeps taking him to the vet, where Deaton rubs a wand over his stomach and talks to Derek in quiet voices about whatever he sees on the screen. At home Derek doesn’t let Rocky knot him anymore, and the dog doesn’t even seem to mind, he just likes to curl up with Stiles and lick him all over. Stiles is worried he must be really sick—like, really _really_ sick. He trusts Derek to make the right decisions for him but he’s scared and he curls up with Rocky and Derek every night, trying not to think about it. 

Soon, though, he realizes that he’s not sick at all—at least, not in a bad way. Deaton finally turns the screen so Stiles can see what’s inside of him. He squints at it in confusion for a moment, and then Derek is there, smoothing his hair and smiling proudly. 

“You’re going to have puppies, Lady. Five little puppies, the perfect mix of you and Rocky.” 

Stiles can’t believe it. He thinks of all the samples Deaton took from him, the surgery he’d had to sleep through, the squelchy feeling before Rocky knotted him last. He feels a moment’s unease, but his owner is looking so happy, so this must be a good thing. He yips, waggling his bottom so his tail would be moving if it was in. 

“We’re going to take such good care of you,” Derek promises, kissing his forehead. “Rocky already knows, that’s why he’s been letting you rest. You’re going to be such a good mama, aren’t you?” 

Stiles pants excitedly and looks again at the screen where his puppies are growing. 

X 

There are some wonderful parts of being pregnant. Stiles loves being coddled by his owner and his stud, taking care of Rocky with his mouth and being allowed to come when Derek plays with his clit or Rocky licks it again and again. 

But soon enough he feels fat and awkward. His tits grow heavy with the milk Derek says his puppies will need, and he can feel them squirming inside of him. He knows they’ll look like Rocky, not like him. Derek says they’ll be just as smart as his stud is, perfect pets for werewolves. 

When it’s time for them to be born they have to be cut out of him by Deaton. Stiles has to sleep through it, which doesn’t seem fair, but when he wakes up again he has five perfect puppies. Three of them are all black like Rocky but two of them are brown and Stiles likes to think that maybe they look like him. At first they can’t really move by themselves or open their eyes, they just squirm around until they find Stiles’ nipple. He wishes he had teats like a real dog so they didn’t have to be constantly waiting for their turn—as it is he’s always feeding at least one of them, they have such big appetites. He just has to lie down all day and let them feed. 

Rocky is a proud papa, dutifully licking the pups clean and growling at them when they get too eager and hurt Stiles with their excitement to feed. He wants to knot again but Derek says no, not until Stiles is fully healed. 

The puppies get bigger and Stiles loves them even more. They like to cuddle with him. Whenever they’re playing with Rocky and nip him too hard so he cuffs them they run to Stiles for comfort, whining and burrowing into his side. It starts to hurt to feed them as their teeth come in, but Stiles grits his teeth and bears it. 

Derek tells him gently that the puppies are going to be adopted by other nice werewolf families and Stiles is heartbroken. Derek promises that when Stiles has his very last litter of puppies he can pick his very favorite one and they’ll keep that puppy forever. Stiles isn’t sure how many litters he’s going to have—he thought this would be the only one—but he trusts his owner absolutely. Besides, he’s proud when Derek tells him that his pups are being sold for top dollar, because Stiles is a prize-winning bitch. “You’re so special,” Derek tells him softly, ruffling his hair. “Everyone knows it.” 

When the puppies are big enough that they can run and play by themselves and eat the same pellets Rocky eats, Derek puts Stiles in the bench again so Rocky can breed him. By the time the puppies go to their forever homes Stiles has a new set squirming in his belly. Derek says it’s so he won’t even miss the first litter. Stiles knows he’ll still miss them, but he gives Derek a big grin anyway. He knows he has to be grateful. He has a stud and owner who will love and spoil him for the rest of his life. 

What else could a puppy want?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who had fun with this dark little story--I had plenty of fun writing it!  
> Prompts open: gentlywithachainsawao3.tumblr.com.


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